Where the Heart Is
by Foxbear
Summary: When disaster strikes ones most valuable, and often only, resources are the friends and allies one can call on. The Autobot's allies mobilize after the destruction of Autobot Base Omega One.
1. Chapter 1

**Where the Heart Is 1**

**A Transformers Prime Fanfiction**

**Set During the Events of "Darkest Hour" "Darkmount NV" "Scattered" "Prey"**

It was the howling of the dogs that woke him first, only to find the red lights of his alarm clock declaring it too be eight thirty-seven pm. The dark skinned man squinted his eyes tight closed and shoved the pillow over his head. The singing began to grow louder and more insistent. Long raven black hair spilled out from under the pillow as he struggled to hang onto the pleasant dream he had been in the middle of. A rough shout came from the carport directed at the dogs and an answering shout from the parents' bedroom. With a groan Zechariah Franklin gave up the fight and rolled onto his back. He placed his head exactly center on the cool side of his pillow, closed his eyes and determined to wait the noise out.

Then people began moving around. First there was the sound of little feet pitter-pattering down the stairs from the attic bedrooms. They bypassed his door and headed straight for their mother's. That was his first warning but he ignored it. If his sisters were going to give him the night off as primary defender against bad dreams the exhausted trucker wasn't going to question it. The sound of stirring came from his mother's room and he resolutely focused on nothing.

A faint noise attracted his attention out the window. Over the howling of his sister's sled teams came the familiar cawing of the corvids. For a moment he forgot his plan to get back to sleep as he sat up and tilted his head to the side curiously. Ravens, jays, crows, they were all putting up a racket loud enough to raise the dead. Still, all the noise outside was coming in a wave from the south. Something had stirred up in that direction but it wasn't a direct threat so he shrugged it off and made one more attempt to catch up to the sleep that was speeding away from him.

Then a phone rang, and the man knew he was getting no sleep tonight. With a groan he rolled out of bed and padded across the floor to a set of louvered doors. He dug through the laundry piled at the base of his closet and was mostly dressed when there was a knock at his door. He flared his energy welcomingly and the room brightened with the light from the hall. To his surprise his mother walked in and held out a shiny cell phone to him. Her dark grey sweats seemed to absorb the light making her chocolate skin a slightly darker contrast, neither obscured the worry lines on her face. With a frown he accepted the device. Before he could give a greeting a deadly calm voice spoke out of the speaker.

"Your friends are in danger and there is nothing more I can do for them. The Others _know."_

"Wait! What?"

With a soft chime the call ended and dark eyes were left staring at the bubbly wall paper on the small screen.

"What did Cousin Sarah have to say?" Ma Franklin asked.

"You heard as much as I did," he replied.

"Don't sass me young man!"

"Sorry Ma," he flinched apologetically, "but seriously I have no idea what she meant."

"She needed to speak directly to you," Jasmine Franklin pressed urgently. "There is something big happening far south and she needed to speak to you, not any of the other truckers, you."

"Jack," Zech said softly, a flicker of understanding lighting his mind.

"This has to do with the voidwalkers," the matriarch replied softly.

"What does?"

"There has been a Full Counsel called."

"Thunder over Denali," Zech breathed. "There hasn't been one called in five hundred years."

"It gets better honey. It's being held in Kealkil."

The trucker stiffened in shock and dialed a number on the phone. The two stood tensely while the phone rang once and then and cheerful voice gave a standard message greeting. He tried several more numbers with identical results and was about to try again when a dark head poked into the room.

"Hey Aunt, Cuz," a sleep blurred voice said hurriedly. "Leave is cut short. I gotta be at Eielson an hour ago. Galina' driving us."

"What?" Ma snapped. "Us?"

"Yeah," the cousin yawned. "Bob's coming too. Wainwright and the Big E have both been put on full alert. All personnel to report immediately."

"Go with God little one," the woman murmured reaching over to brush her fingers across the young face.

"And you," he replied slipping out.

"Ma, I'm gone," Zech stated curtly pulling the last of his clothes on.

"Where?"

"South, something big is going on with Jack's family and someone is going to need to run interference."

"Zech baby," the mother crooned raw fear in her eyes.

"Don't worry Ma," he reassured her. "I'll be careful, and Sal will be with me. You will be needed here." He paused and a scowl crossed his face. "We haven't done anything wrong. Humanity is doing the job that was assigned us at the Erie Accord."

"That counts for the dragons and the wolves son, but not even they are going to like how we are doing it."

"They don't have to like it, and with the dragons and the wolves behind us, and I'm pretty sure we can count on Raven too, that should scare the Others into acceptance." As he spoke he continued dialing.

"You take care of that boy," the woman murmured worriedly. "His mother will be worried."

"Of course," Zech murmured as the phone pinged another dead line, "wait!" His head snapped up and he looked at her in confusion. "I never told you Jack came from a broken…"

Her eyebrow arched and he gave a snorting laugh.

"Right, don't ask. Love you, bye."

With that he darted out the window into the darkness. The ground crunched under his boots and a full moon shone down on the scrubby pines surrounding the ranch.

"What has got the dogs in a snit," grumbled a deep voice as he slipped through the door of the car port.

The gunmetal grey big rig was nearly invisible in the darkness.

"It's their wolf blood Bro," the man answered as he swung up to begin the pre-check.

"We leaving now?" Salcha asked in surprise.

"An hour ago."

"So what's got the dogs worked up?"

Zech stared to answer but the door swung open and as small dark form darted in.

"Sal! Zech!" the small girl called out eagerly holding up a sheaf of paper. "Galena told me to give this to you!"

Zech ran his eyes over the paper and a deep frown creased his face.

"Dee, thank you. Now go inside and tell everyone goodbye for us."

"Okay."

She paused for a quick kiss from each of her brothers and darted away.

"Well?" Sal demanded as they rolled out of the carport and down the road.

"It is an official safety announcement from the Nevada Department of Transportation. It says Jasper, Nevada was hit with a meteor shower an hour ago," the human stated softly. "The town has been evacuated. No loss of life but they are detouring all trucking around. Three-sixty-one is cut off entirely."

"That's bad! And good," Sal rumbled in concern. "But why am I leaving my nice warm barn to go check on our friends if everything is okay?"

"It's a cover story Sal. Something big happened with the voidwalkers and now the Others know."

There was a cough as the engine stalled, a moment of dead silence, and then the mighty diesel accelerated with a roar.

"Oh Denali! They are going to go after Optimus! And that cute little Arcee! And the others! And Jack and Miko and Raf and Ma Darby and Fowler are going to get caught in the middle! This is bad! This is very bad! What happened? How? They were so careful! We were so careful! Was it something I said? Was-"

"Salcha Franklin!" Zech roared out as they took a corner with half of their wheels off the ground. "Calm down! Speeding like this won't get us there any faster! We need to head to the Air Force base. Johnson is there. We need some question answered first."

"Like what?"

"Like just what happened. Whatever it was it was big and a lot of the Others saw it and it was so blatant that they were able to recognize it immediately."

"Forget Johnson then! Call Fowler! You have his number!"

"The chain of command-"

"Forget the chain of command! What does some stupid US tradition have to do with us?"

"A lot Sal," Zech stated with a frown as the rig turned and began to head back towards the air force base. "Remember the movie See Bees? You don't want to endanger our friends because we were rash do you?"

There was a long pause and then the semi snarled.

"No."

"And there is another thing. The most powerful of the Others; the ones we have the most to fear from if they turn on us, it is the Law that binds them. If we want them to play by the rules we have to ."

The miles rolled out under the semi's tires and soon they were pulling into the check point. There was a long line at the main entrance but the gunmetal grey civilian truck was well know and entered through the delivery easily. Franklin often did runs for the local bases and the trucker had a pass ready. The brothers pulled into a hanger and Zech requested an audience with Agent Johnson then sat down to wait on Sal's running board.

"Wait…"

"What Sal?"

"What is Johnson doing here? He should be in Fairbanks with the rest of the penguins."

"I told you something big is going down. Everyone is running around like crazy."

Whatever response Sal would had given was preempted by the arrival of a stressed looking middle aged white male in a rumpled black suit.

"Agent Johnson," Zech began standing to meet the FBI agent.

"Unless you have important information for me you need to get out of here now," snapped the other man curtly. "And I am all too aware that the Others are aware of the voidwalkers."

"We need to know what's going on down in Jasper," Zech stated flatly.

"There's been a meteorite shower approaching and the town is being evacuated," the agent replied without pause.

"He's lying," Sal stated sniffing the air. "But he feels no guilt so it's probably the official line."

"Look Johnson," Zech said stepping forward. "We need to-"

"There is nothing more I can tell you. Have a nice day."

With that the human spun on his heel and stalked away. The gunmetal grey semi snarled and thin black tie straps lashed out and coiled around the dark three piece suit.

"Listen here you arrogant piece of Federal scum! We are going to help our friends and you are going to tell us how or else!" the deep dangerous voice trailed off meaningfully and the overweight agent paled at the forceful reminder of how powerful and unpredictable the strange being was.

"Sal enough," Zech stated calmly.

Agent Johnson was dropped to the concrete floor gasping. He eyed the two brothers warily. There had been neither command nor reprimand in the human's voice and it was driven home to the city dweller how far from "normal" the family was. Steeling his courage the man glared up at them.

"Classified," he snarled.

"Very well," Zech replied turning away to inspect the gunmetal grey semi as a resounding snarl came from the engine compartment.

The agent blinked at the sudden capitulation but decided to take his breaks where he found them and left hurriedly.

"What do we do now?" Sal demanded. "We are not going to get anything out of the chain of command!"

"Not that one anyway."

"Wait? You mean there is more than one chain?" the semi asked confusion in his voice.

Zech chuckled and stepped away.

"Look, you just behave for a bit. I'm going to go talk to Cousin La'Roche and work my way up from there."

"Gotcha."

Sal settled on his shocks determined to wait patiently for his brother to return. He tried to remain focused on the danger that confronted his friends but the old hanger was full of the delightful scurrying of little paws. In fact he was fairly certain that there was a large rat in the north corner that would make a perfect snack. He was debating going over to investigate when a man door opened and two privates came scurrying in panting and carrying a heavy box each.

"They are saying it could be war," one was breathlessly saying to the other. "Aliens are preparing to carpet bomb the heartland and-"

"Shut it, Gomez," the other snapped. "It's probably just the North Koreans getting uppity."

"No way! They couldn't possibly get this much of a reaction out of the Pentagon. Missiles, yes, but the infantry units are mobilizing and deploying to the interior of the lower forty-eight. There-"

The voices cut off as the young men exited through the opposite door and the big rig shifted uneasily, all thoughts of tasty little snacks forgotten. Infantry they had said; men, boys, women, and girls, his cousins, the scent of sweat and fear, rubber of boots, leather, steel, burning oil and gas, rotting jungle vegetation and dry desert sand. Salcha gave a low whine and rolled nervously towards the hanger doors. Iraq, Afghanistan, the Gulf, Vietnam; each time he had watched them leave the safety of home; first with jealously, then uncertainty, then fear. Some had stayed over in the foreign countries to return their blood and flesh to the earth. Some had returned still and cold to the soil of their fathers. Some had abandoned the clan for lovers or jobs or the lure of the void. Those who walked back under their own power had carried the traces of war; the death, the fear, the tantalizing scent of battle fields strewn with decaying flesh. Those scents had been stored by the curious creature stuck at home and now his dark flesh began to release the remembered molecules. Another more urgent whine came from the engine and the semi began to rock back and forth on his wheels.

War. His cousins were going to war. The man door swung open suddenly and Zech stomped in shaking rain water off of his boots. Salcha had not even noticed the downpour begin.

"Okay," the dark haired human called out with a smirk waving a sheaf of still warm printer paper. "I got the basics from a distracted Colonel. Jasper was leveled by the purple ones but everyone was evacuated first. No word on Jack or the kids but according to this the area is going to be carpeted with US military. We'll roll out and-"

"No. In."

"What?"

"We are flying."

"Sal," a deep frown creased the human's face, "you can't fly, not that distance. You know that. I know you are in a hurry but-"

"Zech! Get in and shut up!" the big rig snarled. "There's a Hurc on the runway now loaded to transport supplies to a base in the Lower 48. Dollars to doughnuts that's out flight. Get. Me. On. It."

"Sal, Bro," Zech's voice was confused now, almost pleading. "You can't. After last time-"

"Zech, they need us," growled the semi. "You do it or I'm going without you!"

That shut up his brother immediately. He stared at the semi in astonishment for a moment.

"What did you say?"

"I said I'd do it myself!"

"Sal-"

"I need to be there! I need to help! Please Zech."

"Okay," the human said shaking his head. "There should be enough room for you on the transport. I guess we can lay down a tarp to keep your secretions from eating through the hull. Salcha-"

"You are not talking me out of this!"

"I know," Zechariah smiled and laid a hand on the gunmetal grey wheel well. "I just wanted to say I'm proud of you."

"Oh, well," his brother coughed in embarrassment as the man turned and jogged out of the hanger.

Within moments Zech returned with a supply sergeant in tow. The dusky skinned woman frowned up at the big rig calculatingly and made a few notes on a pad. With a jerk of her head she led them out to the windy runway and barked out orders to the crew scurrying around the cargo plane. Within minutes the semi was rolled up into the hold and secured in the center rear among crates and barrels. A thick tarp was laid over the deck plating and a ceramic catch basin was lashed under his engine.

Already he could feel the disconnect from the ground below with only the landing struts connecting him to the warmth of the planet. He tightened his mouths shut and focused on his brother. Long black tentacles coiled close to his core flesh mass. The roar of the engines filled the enclosed space and he rocked nervously against the restraints. The plane rolled down the runway and lifted into the air.

A low bone chilling groan came out of the engine compartment and the human shuddered in fear. Disconnected from his native environment the creature his family had adopted quickly reverted to a purely defensive posture. The first time he had flown he had screamed and flailed frantically; excretions eating straight through the hold of the cargo plane and forcing a landing. The only other time he had been suspended from a helicopter for a short flight and oddly the swinging and clear view of the ground had kept him relatively sane.

"We'll be fine Bro," the human soothed, stroking the dark grey panels.

Another groan was his only response and then the form went disturbingly quiet as the craft leveled out at a low cruising altitude. Zechariah became increasingly worried as the flight progressed with no sound from his brother. The man continued to talk soothingly. By the time the plane dropped its landing gear his usually placid nerves were strung impossibly thin. When the flight crew undid the lashings he started the diesel engine and carefully rolled forward. He heard the flight crew cursing behind him and leaned out. The ceramic catch basin was full to the brim with a viscous brown substance.

"Don't touch that," the civilian offered helpfully.

The private agreed with a profanity as he watched the flashlight he had dropped dissolving in the ooze. The grey semi rumbled off the ramp and into the hot sun of a southern military base. They were directed to a tractor trailer that needed to be moved and Zech gratefully accepted the task. Nothing settled both of them down like work. But as soon as the trailer was unhitched the human felt the controls tighten.

"Sal?"

"The eagle is this way," the semi groaned miserably.

"How are you feeling?"

"Hungry."

"But otherwise?"

"Very hungry. Finding Fowler."

"Ah, Agent Fowler is not on the edible list."

"Gotta find Fowler. Food later."

"I don't think that's such a good idea."

With a snarl the semi lurched around to a set of dumpsters behind the mess hall and without preamble emptied the entire contents of one into his engine compartment. A stunned corporal holding a tray of cold pastries watched open mouthed and frozen as the truck engulfed the mass with black tentacles. Sal closed his hood and rolled past the serviceman stopping to snag a bear claw from the tray before rolling away.

"Thanks!" Zech called out as they headed for the main office buildings. "I am not going to enjoy the smells of digestion of that stuff."

Bits of plastic flew out of the vents as the semi sorted the food from the not-food.

"Nasty processed stuff," Sal agreed. "Fowler's there," Sal pointed with a tie strap at a large hanger with an "E" emblazoned across the front. "Ma Darby too."

"Any others?" Zech asked hope surging for a moment.

"No."

The door opened for them and the Peterbuilt rolled onto the concrete. A harsh voice called out from an upper level.

"I don't care if it is the Secretary of Defense himself. No one interrupts me when I'm on the phone with Megatron! Oh, it's you," Fowler's ire seemed to falter and fade as his eyes fell on the duo.

The hapless assistant who had alerted him to their presence made himself scarce as the middle age man walked tiredly towards the truckers.

"You are a sight for sore eyes," he said with a grin. "Unless you are bringing me more bad news."

"Nah we just flew in from the Big E up north to see if we could help out," Sal responded a bit smugly.

"I thought you couldn't- You know what. Never mind." The agent sighed rubbing his forehead tiredly. "We are trying to get a shipment of medical supplies in. We can't let any unauthorized truckers on the base and we are too busy. Could you?"

"It'll be here yesterday," Zech responded.

"Salcha! Zechariah!" June called out joyfully as she darted down the stairs.

The trucker caught the woman in a warm embrace and held her for a long moment. The grey semi rolled over and nudged her with a whine until Mrs. Darby patted his bumper reassuringly.

"Have you seen Jack or the others?" the mother demanded once she pulled away.

"No," Zech replied with a worried frown.

"We flew straight from Fairbanks," Sal put in pointedly.

June smiled and patted the bumper again.

"That was very brave of you Salcha."

The big rig gave a pleased purr at the recognition of his sacrifice.

"So what happened?" his partner asked staying on subject.

"It's a long story," Fowler sighed.

"We need to hear it," Zech said flatly. "There were complications on our end and we can handle them but we need to be in the loop."

"Come into my office," Fowler consented.

June sat down on Salcha's bumper and started chatting with the semi while the men debriefed in the office. The nurse sensed that the big rig needed to talk. He got her up to date on the Franklin clan and had started in on the road conditions in Fairbanks when Zech strode out of the office.

"Come on Partner! We are headed for a Medical facility in Cali to pick up supplies for the base! We're also transporting one of the wounded soldiers there."

"About time," the woman snorted then her face turned a bit fearful. "Zech? You will keep your eyes open for Jack won't you?"

"Count on it Ma'am."

Zech climbed into the cab and they started out. They collected the private at the infirmary, a cheerful young thing with a broken arm, and also a distant cousin. The soldier politely didn't listen while Franklin explained what Agent Fowler had told him to the semi. He didn't know who Sal was but warmed quite quickly and when the tall, dark haired trucker jumped out of the cab several miles from base and started to hike cross country towards the restricted area he shifted to the driver's side without question and let Salcha take over driving.


	2. Chapter 2

**Where the Heart Is 2**

**A Transformers Prime Fanfiction**

**Set During the Events of "Darkest Hour" "Darkmount NV" "Scattered" "Prey"**

Zechariah Franklin was a big man. His affable personality and gentle face belied his six-foot-four frame leaving the impression with most people that he was smaller than he actually was and he had spent a lifetime learning to be unobtrusive. As a member of the Northclan in good standing with the Others it was important that he not draw the attention of the powers that be in the world of men. So he smiled and paid his taxes exactly on time and never got speeding tickets, and he knew how to move every ounce of his powerful frame silently and completely unseen. Not perhaps attributes he wished generally known by friends like Jack who belonged to the world of science and facts and the laws of man. Now he glided over the hot Nevada landscape towards the smell of burning civilization. He crested a hill and leaned against a concealing boulder. A perforated green highway sign declared that Jasper city limits began just ahead of him. Grimly he stared out over the desolation.

"You have failed human."

Zech snapped his head around and glared at the shimmering black bird that had lit on the road sign.

"Not by a long shot Raven," he replied. "Not according to the agreement."

"Maybe not by the letter of the law," the corvid conceded as he hopped closer to the man, "but who will that really matter to?"

"The eagles."

The gleaming black bird hissed and puffed out, each obsidian feather reflecting a faint rainbow.

"Go!" the bird cawed taking flight. "Go and see what your carelessness has wrought Eagles Claw!"

"I can smell it from here," Zechariah pointed out. "And why else would your people be here?" he gestured out over the barren desert where flocks of crows, ravens, and jays scoured the battle site.

Raven only laughed harshly and flapped out to join his brethren. The human gritted his teeth and swallowed hard. The scents of fear and death hung over the landscape in a dense pall and for once he cursed his keen sense of smell. He was no half but still the air choked him. Ozone and burnt steel spoke of the power of the weapons used and human blood stained the Nevada sand. The buttes had not seen this level of destruction since they had been formed by the great floods of the past. Overhead the wind howled mournfully as if with the voices of the slain soldiers.

Zech began moving quickly towards the dark tower that stood away from the ruined town. Like most truckers he kept a mental map of every place he frequented and the fact that the roads had been shattered did not disturb him in the least. Unlike most truckers his legs were well used to walking long distances and he covered the miles quickly, far more quickly than the textbooks said a human should be capable of. The man passed a red sedan that smelled of Mrs. Darby's fear and determination as well as a dead voidwalker but paid it little heed. He was focused on the burning pile of rock and steel at the base of the alien structure.

His goal was near but the searchers made him travel more slowly now. The human crouched down by a smoldering pile of steel and the smoke seemed to come to him and encircle Zech. The busy purple Veichion walked past scouring the base but its visor passed over the hidden from without pausing. Easily scrambling over the shattered remains of the base the clansman gave a brisk and thorough search of his own. He was less than perfectly comforted by what he found.

Deciding to take the risk he backed into a crevasse and stretched out his awareness towards the Others. The usual carrion eaters that haunted battle fields flickered around with a host of more powerful beings that should not have been there. The Others knew too much already but they accepted his presence without comment. They would expect the Clan to investigate. More disturbing was what should have been there and wasn't. A cold emptiness permeated the desert and chilled the human. Shaking off the implications of that for a moment Zech stretched out his awareness to find the injured Prime, because there was no doubt from the scent of spilled energon that Optimus was gravely injured.

The pain began almost as soon as the Others' light faded from his awareness but the man ignored it and forced his senses outward. He was just beginning to get a clear view of the Decepticons' around him when there was a harsh tearing sensation in his mind. Zechariah cried out and collapsed onto his hands and knees. Something dripped down his lip and when he raised his hand there was blood on it. With a snarl of frustration the man staggered to his feet and began to move towards the meeting place he had agreed on with Salcha. There would be no way to find the Leader of the Autobots now even if he was alive.

Far across the desert a gunmetal grey semi tracked straight as an arrow down a two lane highway. The injured Army private had been replaced with a very old man. The medical supply depot had had a corporal handy to send back with him; a closer cousin on the other side of the family, but Sal had left without him. The elder who had met him on the other side of the fence might have been anywhere between sixty and one-hundred twenty. Silver hair streaked with a few remaining obsidian strands were held in two neat braids by flannel strips. A frown creased a face etched with laugh lines and pale blue eyes flashed with annoyance. Worn jeans lay comfortably along his lean legs and a faded dress shirt covered broad shoulders but left thick sinewy wrists exposed. The man rode in silence while the semi tried to think of the best way to pose his problem.

"Elder Sipray," he finally began having decided on the straightforward approach. "I have questions."

The man only grunted. He had been dragged away from his mountain home and into the choking air of the cities at the request of this questionable creature that Northclan had adopted. He was not in the most charitable mood.

"Look, I know it was never the humans' job to remember. But you do have more memory than me. A counsel, a Full Counsel, is being called at Kealkil. This is about the Erie Accords. I need to know everything you know about it."

"Why?"

That floored Salcha for a moment. The Elder was clearly not going to answer any questions without justification and the creature muttered under his breath in frustration; wishing he was back in Northclan territory where he could never seem to avoid some Grandmother pouring history into him.

_Probably should have listened better to the old stories when I had the chance. _

Here, far from the direct influence of the Franklins and the rest of Wolf tribe, the wise men were far less likely to accept him.

"The Clan is in danger," he finally said. "I need to be prepared to defend my family and friends against the coming storm. I need your knowledge to do that."

"And the Clan has no memories?"

"I was a poor student," the truck confessed.

For a long moment the man glared down at the dash, then he gave a huff of annoyance.

"Very well, for the friendship between myself and the Storytellers of Wolf Clan. Be sure you mention this at the next gathering young one."

"Oh I will!"

"Silence!" the old bard barked pulling out a gnarled pipe and tamping it down. "I cannot tell you all-"

"Why not?"

"Silence!" the pipe struck the dash scattering leaf over the interior. "As you said blood creature; it is not for humans to remember. But we can hold on to a fragment or two of the past. I have a few such fragments. Stop at the next Synagogue you pass and I will show you one who holds another."

There was another long moment of stillness, with only the whirr of tires on pavement as Sal waited and the strike of a match as the elder lit his pipe. His eyes grew milky and dim and when he spoke his voice was soft.

"For time untold the sky above our land was ruled by the Thunderbird. They laid eggs on the rocky clefts and ate even the flesh of man. Only the greatest of warriors could slay them. But then came the ones who pulled the very Thunderbirds themselves from the sky…"

Many hours later a lone figure sat slumped in a booth in a roadside dinner. Franklin credit was good throughout North America so it was not lack of funds that kept the tall Native American sipping a glass of ice water. His eyes were bloodshot and his hands were trembling but his gaze was steady as he checked the road. When a cloud of dust and the familiar sound of airbrakes announced the arrival of a dark grey semi he got haltingly to his feet and stepped carefully out to meet his partner. His eyebrows arched as a black robed priest carrying an ancient leather bound tome let himself down out of the cab and gave a cheery wave before walking into the diner.

"Okay?" Zech asked slowly as he accepted the offered tie straps that helped him into the cab. "Am I going to need to get some rosary beads for you now?"

"Ha, ha, I needed a driver and he was handy."

"Wasn't there a Clansman at the medical base?"

"What's that big word that means 'shut up it doesn't matter?' again?"

"Irrelevant."

"Right, that's irrelevant. You are hurting bad."

"Yeah, never mind about that. I couldn't find any of the mech-" Zech was interrupted by a fit of coughing and Sal scented fresh blood.

"Stop talking," the big rig snapped, "for just a bit stop talking." Black tentacles reached out and nipped a shaking hand. "You think I don't know what's going on but I do! I know what happens, what was bound to happen to you if you hung out with the Autobots too long, and it's happening now isn't it?"

Zechariah nodded reluctantly.

"But it's a touch more complicated than that Sal," he weakly protested.

"Yeah! I know you wouldn't have tried to tell the voidwalkers anything, you aren't that stupid, so it means this isn't the curse, it's just the weakness. You tried to use your other senses on them one too many times, or you tried to heal one, or something."

"Heh," the man said suddenly looking far older than his paperwork claimed. "Pretty much. But I still need to brief you and the sooner I get that over with the better; like taking off a band-aid."

"Okay," the semi agreed reluctantly. "But then you eat and sleep."

"The base is destroyed like Agent Fowler said. The purple ones are combing over it like scavengers. Raven and his cousins-"

"Aankaawu Yeil?"

"No, one of his southern brothers. Anyway they are all over the battle site. That's trouble of one kind but there's worse."

Sal let Zech talk until he had a pretty good idea of what had happened and then insisted that his brother eat and sleep. Optimus was injured, maybe worse, and hidden away by the newest member of team Prime, a flashy sports car that liked to speed and had given the brown bears a few good runs from the gossip on the shortwave. The rest of the Autobots had fled the base with their human charges. They would be on the run and from what the Franklins had gathered from Jack about the Autobot's movements that meant they could be anywhere in the world. This had been an especial worry to Sal until Zech had pointed out that the Prime had more sense than to send them where they would be unable to communicate or regroup. They were most likely still in the lower forty-eight. Sal had been all for putting out the word on the CB waves to watch out for the kids and report their location but Zech had convinced him of the danger in that just before falling asleep. The semi thought hard as he sat under the hot southern sky. Finally coming to a decision he sidled over to a nearby Kenworth, a light tan truck with a stylized wolf's head on the door and trailer. From the sounds and smells coming from the cab the trucker was sleeping . Well that was just too bad. The gunmetal grey semi raised up a tie strap and knocked on the window sharply. The man inside grunted and woke with a start. A bearded face and a rumpled shirt glared out the window at the other truck before slipping out to stand beside him.

"This had better be good Franklin," growled the trucker, scratching at an anchor tattoo on his forearm.

"Oh it is," the semi stated in a whisper so low is sent chills through the man. "There are three children on the run and in need of help."

"Clan?" the other man demanded suddenly very alert.

"No, but Clan protected."

"I can have an APB on the waves in no time flat!"

"No! This has to be kept person to person only! The waves are being watched closely."

The man swore softly at that and grimaced.

"I can spread the word, but you should probably tell the hog riders too. They travel faster than we do."

"Good idea! Now we are looking for a pretty little Asian in a green SUV, big thing. Watch out for her. She can get violent. There is a cute little Hispanic boy, big square glasses, he'll have books or a computer with him. He'll be in an Urbana five-hundred, yellow and black with racing stripes. And a Caucasian mutt of a guy, a bit skinny, blue jeans and a long-sleeved tee, real serious, black hair, blue grey-eyes, riding a hot little Japanese number, blue with rose trim."

"Got it. Remember to tell the bikers!"

The old man leapt up into the cab and started his engine with a roar. Sal rolled over to where two black and silver Harleys leaned over on their respective kickstands. The semi gave a short blast on his air horn and two blonds came out of the diner with fire in their eyes. The tall bikers' leathers strained over rounded hips and chests as twin glared bored into the big rig.

"Franklin!" snarled the woman in the lead. "How dare you show your grill here?"

"Not now ladies! Got a little girl lost."

Instantly the anger faded from their eyes; replaced by cool determination.

"Don't think this lets you off the hook Salcha Franklin, but where, who, and how?"

"Miko Nakadai, hiding out with a witness protection program of sorts but cover's blown, as for the where; well that's the tricky bit, and there's more."


	3. Jack

**Where the Heart Is 3 Jack**

**A Transformers Prime Fanfiction**

**Set During the Events of "Darkest Hour" "Darkmount NV" "Scattered" "Prey"**

Never had he been this sore. Or this tired for that matter. At the end of a long day at school he had been captured by Decepticons. He had been forced to watch as Megatron had used him to wrest the greatest advantage that Optimus had yet to achieve from his father's servos. The burning guilt at that, the strange block in his bond to his Guardian, and the fear of being separated from his family plagued at his mind with every mile that passed under Arcee's tires. She had insisted that they keep moving. Pressing forward, changing routes suddenly, even backtracking at times to create an impossible trail. Jack was young and strong but as the sun set for the second time he was ready to collapse. The last thing he wanted to do was show weakness in front of his partner and he was relieved when she finally pulled up behind a gas station and diner tucked into the trees.

"You can eat and rest a bit here," the cycle-bot stated curtly.

The human nodded and stepped off her gingerly, staggering a bit as the sleep deprivation and dehydration caught up with him.

"Jack!" Arcee rolled forward worriedly, suddenly noting the signs of stress on her partner's body.

"I'm fine Cee. Just tired," he yawned wide as he pulled off his helmet.

"Scrap I should have thought of that," groaned the Autobot. "I'm sorry-"

"Not your fault," Jack interrupted her shortly. "Not like we could have done much differently. I'm going to go eat and then I'll catch forty in there," he jerked his head towards an old barn that was stuffed full of sweet scented hay bales.

The blue Autobot nodded and rocked back into a comfortable stance. The raven haired teen jogged up to the diner and stepped in. He fished out his wallet and stared dismally at the cash in it. There was no way he would dare use his debit card and risk bringing Soundwave down on them. With a sigh he grabbed a muffin that had some sort of berry in it and a bottle of water. If he had been a bit less stressed and sleep deprived he might have noticed the sharp look the middle aged cashier gave him. She stared intently at the youth as she counted out his change and he turned to walk out the door.

The muffin was good and large Jack discovered as he carefully chewed and swallowed each bite; not a big box store brand but likely home made. He had rolled Arcee through the half open doors of the barn and they sat together in the shadows behind a tall stack of hay bales. Leaving a chunk of the muffin for the morning the youth slumped down onto the loose hay and was almost instantly asleep. It felt like only seconds had passed when the cycle-bot was shaking him awake. He staggered up with a groan and ate the last of the muffin grimacing at the taste in his mouth. He never thought he'd miss having a toothbrush so much.

"Is that all you're eating?" a worried voice inquired.

Jack glanced up at the Autobot with a rueful grin.

"I have to conserve my resources," he shrugged.

She frowned down at him but didn't argue.

"You'd better go in and stock up on what you can," she offered instead. "It's calm here and we don't know when you'll have another chance to shop."

The human nodded and went back into the little dinner. The same cashier was there and he nodded to her before selecting a handful of granola bars from a stand. He vaguely noted the four bulky truckers who sat at a corner booth. He was refilling his water bottle at the soda fountain when he sensed a looming presence behind him. Cautiously Jack turned and blinked at a wide swath of red flannel. His gaze traced up and up, over an impossibly thick sandy beard and into a pair of watery green eyes.

"Ah, hello?"

"That your bike hidden back in Old Man Krosp's barn half-pint?"

"Yes," the youth replied tensing at the demanding tone.

"You on the run?"

"Chuck," one of the other truckers said in exasperation. "Easy."

Jack darted a quick gaze around. The four men had him hemmed in and it would take three of him to make any one of them.

"Hey! We gotta find out if it's him," the first one stated stubbornly.

"If I'm who?" Jack asked.

"The kid the Franklins have everyone looking for."

"The Franklins?" the youth demanded eagerly. "They are looking for us?"

"They are looking for tree kids; no names just descriptions. You fit the oldest."

"The other two? A short twelve year old Hispanic and an Asian with pink dyed hair?"

"That's them," the massive trucker nodded in satisfaction. "So that means we found you!"

A giant hand clapped down on Jack's shoulder and he suddenly found himself steered towards a table.

"I, I need to get going."

"Had breakfast yet kid?"

"Ah, yes basically."

"What's basically mean?"

Jack's stomach chose that moment to let out a treacherous growl.

"Thought so. Maybell! Give me a full platter for the boy!"

"I can't-"

"Hush now son. The Franklins are calling in their solids on this one. Gives me a chance to finally pay back a debt that's long overdue. Now eat."

A massive steaming platter of scrambled eggs, hash browns, and a virtual log jam of sausages was piled up in front of him. The hungry human needed no further urging and eagerly dug in. When he had stated his initial hunger and found his pace the red haired trucker leaned forward.

"So what's going on kid? The Franklins are being kind of tight lipped but we figure you were involved in whatever shut down the Jasper Mines and the town."

Jack hesitated then nodded, quickly deciding on how much of the truth to tell.

"We were caught outside of the town when," he paused to remember what cover story Fowler had mentioned for these circumstances, "the meteor strike happened. I am traveling to meet up with my mom," at the last word his voice caught with worry and he shifted his attention quickly back to the food on his plate.

A sympathetic look passed between the truckers.

"What about your dad?"

"He," the youth choked on the potatoes and coughed as a shudder ran through his body. He desperately prayed that they would take that as an excuse for the tears in his eyes, "I don't know," he whispered, "I just don't know."

His shoulder was seized in a vice like grip and Jack pulled his gaze up to the watery green eyes.

"Don't sweat it kid. All in the Lord's hands. All in the Lord's hands. Now eat up."

The reminder of his blocked connection to Optimus had killed his appetite but he finished up and rose thanking the men. Each took the time to clasp his shoulder warmly and before he went out the door the redhead handed him a paper bag.

"Something for the road from all of us."

"Thank you, really I-"

"Don't mention it kid," the trucker waved his hand dismissively, "There's not a rig on the interstate system that doesn't owe the Franklins. They're the ones who sent out the word. Thank them."

"Will do."

The human jogged over to the patiently waiting blue motorcycle.

"I take it breakfast went well?" she asked curiously as he searched the contents of the bag and sorted the jerky and granola bars for easy carrying.

"Yeah, some of the guys I there figured out I needed some help and bought me a big meal."

The sound of three semis revving their engines and pulling out of the parking lot rattled the barn.

"And they gave you that bag of food too? Generous of them."

"Generous, for sure," Jack blinked in shock at the last jerky bag in the bottom of the sack. It had been emptied and a thick roll of ones and fives was filling the space. He glanced at the now distant forms of the trucks and shook his head with a smile. "Truckers."

"We need to get moving Jack," Arcee pointed out.

Jack nodded and swung up onto the seat. Despite the blocked connection and the uncertainty he felt a bit better.

"Let's roll Arcee. "


	4. Miko

**Where the Heart Is 4 Miko**

**A Transformers Prime Fanfiction**

**Set During the Events of "Darkest Hour" "Darkmount NV" "Scattered" "Prey"**

Unfortunately, purple mountains majesty could only awe a city girl for so long. Miko slumped in the passenger's seat of Bulkhead's alt mode watching the trees streak past out the window. So many trees; conifers she thought they were called? Maybe. They had the pointy green things instead of the flat leaves, and big old pinecones. Supposedly if you measured the cones and counted the pointy leaves it would tell you which trees they were…The girl let out a groan arching her back and straining against the seatbelts as she rubbed her face.

"What's the matter Miko?" Bulkhead asked worriedly.

"I am so bored I am reviewing _science_ homework in my head!"

"Oh," the Wrecker shifted uneasily.

A bored Miko was a dangerous Miko, but then she gave a small sad sigh as her mood changed again and she curled up into a small ball on his seats.

"Hey, they are all tough," Bulkhead offered. "I'm sure everyone made it."

"I know, I know. It's just…"

"Just what?"

"Before, back when I was working. I, I got used to being alone. To never having friends, or only having one friend at the most, but now…" her voice trailed off as she leaned into his window and stared out at the passing scenery.

The mech remained quiet and let her mull over whatever was in her mind. Her breath began to condense on the glass and the Autobot was about to send a warm wash of air over it to clear her view when her finger cam up almost of its own accord and delicately traced two arcs in the moisture. A stylized heart he realized as she deliberately blew on it, making the symbol stand out.

"I miss them Bulk," she whispered hugging her knees to her chin. "I miss them all so bad."

"Me too Miko. Me too."

"And I'm hungry," she pointed out.

"We'll stop at the next place. You already ate all the emergency stuff I packed?"

"Yup, how long till the next place?"

"Awhile," Bulk answered with a sigh.

"Window?" the girl requested softly.

The mech lowered the passenger window as they came to a series of tight turns. Miko leaned into the cool wind and let it soothe her hot skin. She sniffed and dug through his dash compartment for a tissue and was loudly blowing her nose when the rumble of a motorcycle engine approached them from around the corner. A dozen or so gleaming black Harley's were cruising in formation up the road. They smiled and waved at the girl as they passed on the corkscrew turns. Bulkhead rumbled a bit uneasily as the littlest Wrecker waved back at the burly men. They were paying entirely too much attention to her and he rolled up and tinted the windows as quickly as he could. She snorted and kicked lightly at his interior.

"Easy there 'Dad'. They were just being friendly."

"Humph."

"Did you seriously just _say_ 'humph'?"

"Uh, yes?"

The girl burst into laughter and Bulkhead relaxed a bit. Outside the trees flashed past. Miko grew quiet again but seemed in better spirits over all. The summer sun seemed to have lured out the two wheelers because they were passed by several more groups of bikers going both ways. It did seem to Bulkhead that they were paying a bit too much attention to him but he was able to brush it off until a more massive parade of at least two dozen bikes rumbled up behind them and fell into flanking positions.

"Ah Bulk," Miko started looking nervously out the windows.

"I know. I know," the Wrecker muttered. "They aren't cons. That much is for sure."

The girl reached under the seas and pulled out the heaviest thing she could find; which turned out to be the first aid kit.

"If they try anything funny they are going to get a serving of irony to the face!" she growled swinging it experimentally.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," Bulkhead cautioned as he scoped the land around them for escape routes.

It didn't look promising. On one side a cliff dove down several hundred feet and on the other granite walls hemmed them in. Up ahead the road widened for a rest area but there was no alternate exit, just in and back out onto the road. Eight of the bikers pulled ahead of them in perfect formation and before the Wreckers had realized what had happened they were blocking the narrow road past the rest stop in a tight criss-cross pattern. Bulkhead estimated the mass of the heavily built bikes. If he needed to he could simply bust right through them but if there was any way to avoid harming the humans and drawing attention to themselves he was going to take it. Carefully he backed up onto the cracked asphalt of the rest area and clamped his doors locked when the bikers began to circle them in concentric rings. Miko was glaring and hissing out the window when she suddenly gasped and pressed her hands and face to the darkened glass.

"Wait Bulk! I know them!"

"You know these bikers?"

"Not personally. But I know the gang! They-" her voice cut out and her face scrunched up in confusion. "How the scrap did they find me?"

"Who are they?" the Autobot asked frantically as the gleaming black cycles circled.

"B.A.C.A."

"Hey! Don't call me an idiot because I don't know!"

"No, no, not baka. B. A. C. A.! See the fist in the circle on their leathers? Bikers Against Child Abuse. Agent Jones took me to one of their rallies once before he got me settled down in Jasper. They are a great bunch," the girl explained as she unbuckled.

"So they are not dangerous?" the green SUV inquired relaxing a bit.

Miko let out a bark of laughter and grinned up at him fiercely.

"They are totally dangerous. You mess with a kid they are protecting, you pay in _blood_ mech!"

"Oh," Bulk replied a bit uncertainly as she opened the door.

"Hey! It's the twins. I met them at the rally. Heya, Tayna and Tiif!"

"Miko!" both women called out in delight leaping off their rides and running forward to bump fists with the girl in turn.

"How did you find me?" the slim Asian demanded setting her hands on her hips and glaring fiercely up at them.

"Woah! Good to see you too girlfriend!" the tall round blond held up her hands defensively.

"Seriously! I got some bad dudes after me! Not the jerks you deal with either. Like the kind you need to call in Delta Force to deal with!"

"Chill girl," the other twin stepped forward waving off the circling bikes. "We don't have all the details but we knew enough to keep this on the down low. Tiff and I are the only ones who knew your name, the rest of the searchers were only going on a description. We pegged you about a day back and got here as fast as we could."

"Who sent out the word I needed searching for in the first place?"

"A friend of ours by the name of Franklin; a real pain in the saddle but he has heart when it comes to what matters."

"Franklin?" Miko demanded incredulously. "That old fashioned trucker dude?"

"Well, it was the younger Franklin," Tayna offered.

"Sheesh, he writes letters. Who does that but old guys?"

"That 'old guy' put the word out to be on the lookout for you and your friends," Tiff pointed out with a smile.

"So he's a great old guy," Miko conceded, and then her eyes grew sharp. "So what now that you've found me?"

"The instructions were odd," Tayna said with a frown. "We were supposed to offer help but stay away as much as possible."

"Yeah! That's for your own good!" Miko nodded puffing her chest out importantly. "If I need backup I am gonna need more muscle than you got."

"So we gathered," the woman smirked. "So here."

The sisters stepped to the side and two massive bikers came up carrying a loaded backpack each.

"Food, water, survival kit, sleeping bag; basically whatever we figured you'd need," Tiff explained taking one bag and starting towards the SUV.

Miko opened the door and grinned in thanks as the bags were tossed inside.

"Now before we leave," one of the men spoke up for the first time. "We are going to risk sticking around for one more thing. You look skinny and hungry girl!"

"Stoker," Tayna groaned. "Real smooth."

"No he's right," Miko interjected eagerly, nose twitching. "But we just got here how is that ready already?" she asked pointing at a grill that was wafting out smoke and the delicious scent of meat.

"Sorry girley," the bearded biker grinned proudly. "Family secret! Now; burgers, ribs, or hotdogs?"

"Hotdogs!" she whooped darting over to where tubs of baked beans and potato salad were being laid out.

Bulkhead settled back on his struts, letting himself relax for the first time since they had abandoned the base. The Wreckers' meeting could wait for a bit while the youngest refueled.


	5. Rafael

**Where the Heart Is 5 Rafael **

**A Transformers Prime Fanfiction**

**Set During the Events of "Darkest Hour" "Darkmount NV" "Scattered" "Prey"**

Deep within the caves of the South American nation of Chili a young man was frowning down at a set of blueprints. The old and cracked paper declared that there should have been a mine shaft angling straight down into the rock but reality was stoutly denying the existence of such a thing. Pedro de'Lance heaved a tired sigh and rubbed his eyes. This was his ninth hour down here today and he really should be getting up but if he could find the old copper shaft-

_Tink. Tap. _

His train of thought derailed abruptly as the rock in front of his face shifted and a slinky copper tube shot out, flashing by his face as the impossibly long form landed on the cavern floor beside him and began a swirling dance. He watched as fascinated as ever as a spindly-legged creature formed out of the mass and glared up at him arms akimbo.

"Why you not-"

Green orbs stared up at him demandingly.

De'Lance gave a laugh and reached out to rub the warm metal helm.

"I was just finishing up. I'm coming up now."

The creature huffed and stuck out his glosia; making it clear that he had caught the half fib.

"Where is Thing Two?"

"I-"

"Oh, sorry Thing Two. Where is Thing One?"

The little mech tilted his helm to one side and his emerald optics flashed brightly as he connected to the multi-gestalt. One long finger pointed at an angle and he chattered out a set of coordinates before looking back up at the young man expectantly.

Kicking himself mentally for asking the question in the first place Pedro ran the calculations in his head. This late in the day that was painful. Coming to a conclusion he squinted down at the copper form and spoke hesitantly.

"Three meters below the lowest safety cavern and headed north-northeast and up?"

"Close but-" Thing One said as he scrambled up the miners powerful shoulders and shifted into a passable backpack.

"Okay, let's get up top," the human replied grateful that the little test was over.

The gestalt had reluctantly accepted that absorbing a fully adult human into the bond was impossible. However they saw no reason that De'Lance should not be able to communicate with them on their level. Thus the constant efforts to get him thinking like a 'proper miner' in their terms. What that amounted to in Pedro's estimation was a cross between an astrophysicist and a diehard spelunker. His brain hurt when the sessions were done but he had to admit it was making him better at his job.

They reached the mine cart and the human climbed in and started up the engine. The slow steady machine began the laborious climb up the sloped tunnel. A bit later there was a hum from the wall to their side and a stubby copper drill burst out and landed in the seat beside the young man. Thing Two transformed and Thing One dropped down beside him. They were soon chattering away in their high pitched, sing-song language. The miner listened with half an ear as they discussed the explorations of the day, the letters they had received from their humans, and their plans to contact them tonight. Suddenly the chatter stopped and both mechs sat rigid in the hard vinyl seat holding hands as their optics twitched and flickered.

"Driver is-"

"Right; odd."

"What's odd?" De'Lance frowned, not liking the look on their faceplates.

"Not to-"

"Worry, am sure-"

"Is perfectly-"

"Safe."

"Who is perfectly safe?" he demanded stopping the cart abruptly.

"Raf is,"

"Probably safe."

"Probably?" the man demanded dark eyes flashing in the yellow electric lighting, before forcing himself to calm down and not startle the little Cybertronians. "What's going on?"

"Thin," they spoke together.

"What is thin?"

"The bond."

"Is that bad?"

There was silence and the human got the impression that they were communicating with the gestalt; pulling intelligence from the collective. Finally Thing One looked up at him sharply.

"Driver says that there is little we can tell at this point. It would be advisable to form a full bond so please continue to the surface as soon as possible."

The human nodded and restarted the cart. He was gradually getting used to the disconcerting changes in the mechs' intelligence levels, but it still unnerved him a bit. The rest of the ride passed in a blur as his mind whirled over what might be wrong with his little cousin. He knew that if Driver was really in a hurry he would have summoned the two scouts immediately, not let them ride up in the cart. But the fact that they did not want to leave their organic partner did not bode well either. It meant on some level they were nervous and reluctant to leave any member of the team alone. He left the car in charge of the mechanics while the Things slipped silently into the shadows and followed him into the side cavern the gestalt had claimed as home base for this job.

In the center of the cavern sat a living machine. It resembled nothing so much as a clockwork stalagmite; gears and formed metal spoke of man's invention, but the form seemed to blend in with the cave as naturally as any other rock. Without hesitation the final two joined and the gestalt began to transform. The frames shifted and flowed like water while never quite leaving the form of a rough organic cone. Sounds that were not quite music rippled through the cavern and lights danced across the living sculpture. Suddenly there was a change in energy and Pedro stiffened. The noises they were making now, they only made those when one of their number was in danger. Smoothly three forms pulled out of the merge and transformed to stand next to De'Lance. The largest one whose dusky red armor blended well into the cave nodded slightly.

"Rafael Esquivel is off planet," Shift stated with puzzlement on his faceplates.

Pedro stiffened and opened his mouth in shock.

"He is off of the planet?" the human demanded trying to wrap his mind around the concept. "How is that even possible? Did the Decepticons take him to the _Nemesis _again?"

"No," Driver offered as the merge dissipated and each mech took his own form. "This was not a flight on a space ship. He bridged there."

"Bridged where?"

"We do not know exactly," the lead mech stated his wide white shoulders hunching slightly in thought. "As you know we are only able to communicate with our littlest brother partially. All we are able to sense is that he is alive and very far away."

"You don't seem particularly worried," was all the man could think of to say.

"He is under the protection of a true Prime," the mech shrugged as the rest of the gestalt moved away to resume their night work. "Optimus will let no harm befall him," but there was still a trace of fear in him.

"I, I wish I could be so certain," Pedro frowned.

"What bothers you?"

"It is illegal," the human replied.

"Illegal?" Driver frowned down at him.

"To move a child across state lines without a parent's permission is forbidden," the miner explained. "I know that Bee and Optimus have arranged for permission to take Raf on 'field trips' with Mama but I do not think that the Prime or Bumblebee would condone talking him off world without telling her. They have too much respect for family."

"But they cannot tell her," the mech pointed out.

"Exactly."

"You think that the Decepticons are behind this."

"It is a possibility."

Driver growled low in his chassis in frustration clearly thinking over his friend's words. Suddenly he stiffened and relief flickered across his faceplates.

"What?" Pedro demanded.

"He is returned! Back at the base."

"But?" the human pressed not liking the look in the silver optics.

"Shame," the larger miner muttered wincing at whatever he felt over the bond. "He is feeling deep shame and refuses to speak to us."

"That does not sound like Raf."

"It is unusual," the mech started again and hummed low pressing a servo to his helm in the universal gesture for 'I'm talking to someone else'.

The silence dragged on for far too long and suddenly Pedro jumped as he realized that the entire gestalt had reassembled and were crouching close together watching their leader with unreadable expressions. Finally Driver spoke aloud.

"Go with the blessing of Primus little Brother. Be assured, we will determine whether your family is safe."

"What is going on?" Pedro demanded frantically.

"The Decepticons did kidnap the children," Driver explained grimly. "Optimus rescued them but the Nemesis has found the base. They are evacuating. Each Autobot is taking their charge and bridging to a different part of the States."

The man gaped at the mech unable to fully understand for a brief moment. Then his mind cleared and he spun on his heal.

"We need to contact Mama Esquivel and-"

"NO!"

The order barked out and vibrating from nearly a dozen voices stopped him in his tracks.

"Soundwave is monitoring the human airwaves by now," Driver explained. "We must consider carefully what we say and do least we give away that Rafael is still alive and where he is."

"Do you know where he is?" Pedro demanded.

"Yes, he and Bumblebee are currently in Montana."

"I can get the cargo plane ready in an hour," the man promised unfolding his phone.

"My friend."

The human glanced up in shock as the massive hand folded around his. There was pain in the voice and suffering in the silver optics and the miner suddenly understood.

"You are not warriors," he said softly. "We cannot ask you to face the Decepticons again. I will go alone."

"No, Pedro, please understand," Driver pressed, not releasing his hand. "If there was anyway our facing them again would help our brother we would do it in a spark-pulse but for now he is safely out of the knowledge of the Decepticons. If we travel, if you travel, you will draw attention to his location. You are known to be related to him. Soundwave could find our brother through you."

"Then what can I do?" the man nearly shouted. "I have to do something!"

"We promised Raf we would check up on his family," the mech stated. "See if they were safe. There would be no suspicion in that. Already the news is thick with word that Jasper had to be evacuated due to a meteor shower. Call Mama Esquivel and get the details and we will share them with our brother over the bond."

"The bond is safe right?"Pedro asked.

"No mech alive can trace or hack it over a distance," he was assured.

The man nodded and shifted as his mind whirled over the problem.

"I could send him something," he said thoughtfully.

"Safely?"

"Yes, Big Rock Mining Company is the major funder for this project and they have offices all through Montana. I could ask them to put together an emergency kit and wire some cash as if I was just doing a regular resource transfer. You could tell Raf where to pick it up over the bond. No way for this Soundwave to connect the dots."

"That would work," Driver agreed hesitantly.

"But?"

"Bumblebee keeps a week of emergency supplied in his storage at all times; food, medical, and clothing," the mech explained. "He also keeps cash and an untraceable debit card."

"Oh," the human stated feeling suddenly a bit useless.

Driver's optics flickered and Pedro waited patiently until the mech focused on him again.

"He says that they are set for most of the basic needs but he does not have enough money to purchase a," the miner paused and frowned, "hot spot?"

De'Lance burst into laughter and shook his head.

"My kid cousin is on the run from an army of aliens and he wants an internet connection."

Then he frowned and glanced up at Driver sharply.

"I can get him one easily enough through a requisition order but will it be safe?"

"Rafael is incredibly mature for his age," Driver offered as he waved the rest of the gestalt back to their work now that the immediate danger to the youngest was understood and there were actions they could take. "I have no doubt that he will not endanger himself or his guardian."

"I'll send out the resource order immediately. No, I'll have one of the admin ladies do it," he corrected himself. "That way there will be no way to connect it to me."

Driver suddenly transformed and Pedro looked at the cavern entrance. A frantic old man came running in panting.

"De'Lance! Bad news from your old hometown! Unbelievable news! But your family is safe! Your aunt wishes to speak to you!"

"Coming Diaz," the younger man replied curtly.

He cast one last glance back at the battered white pickup and jogged after the old-timer. Half an hour was spent on the phone reassuring his aunt that Raf was no doubt safe; perhaps with the Darbys or one of his other computer club friends, probably Bee. She seemed a bit calmer when he hung up and the young man immediately darted over to the administration building. It was time to schmooze up one of the draconic old ladies that made certain the mine ran on budget. While it did sound like Raf, the competent little planner, had what he needed already there was no harm in sending along a few extras, right?

A sleek black and yellow Urbana 500 pulled up of the loading bay of a nondescript but busy warehouse in the middle of a dense forest and popped open its back doors. Massive dirty dump trucks lined the chain link fence and the gravel parking lot was hard packed. A worker finally noticed the car and pointed it out to the foreman. They walked over to investigate and saw a neatly printed note detailing an order number. The foreman barely batted an eye and called out a few commands into his radio. Within moments three men appeared each hauling a large cardboard box. There was some confusion on how to fit it all in but soon the supplies were packed into the car and the men were sent back to work. As soon as the foreman left Bumblebee drove back to where he had left Raf at the edge of the road. The mech let out a whistle of amusement as the child climbed in.

"Yeah," Raf replied with a grin. "It does look like he over did it."

Another series of curious beeps filled the cab as the seats shifted to allow Raf the best angel to root through the boxes.

"Yea, I know you can't transform with all this in here. Just pull up to the first thrift shop you come to and we'll donate what we can't fit. Dried food, medical supplies, books? Well I can sit on them to seem taller in the driver's seat. Ah ha! Here it is!"

He triumphantly pulled the small device out of the box and skillfully cut through the hard plastic packaging. Within moments the screen of his laptop began to flicker with information.

"Let's see what the internet has to tell us Bee! If anyone has seen the rest of them it will be on one of the usual conspiracy sites before you can say Ratchet's wrenches!"

The mech chirped happily and rolled out onto the empty highway.


	6. Deliveries

**Where the Heart Is 6**

**Deliveries **

**A Transformers Prime Fanfiction**

**Set During the Events of "Darkest Hour" "Darkmount NV" "Scattered" "Prey"**

Salcha Franklin wasn't happy. Well, correction, he was happy. He just wasn't really satisfied. Word had come in through various untraceable means that each of the children had been found and tended to. All were headed home like spawning Chinook, each protected by their Autobot guardians and watched from afar by the combined eyes of the Northclan and their allies. That was something to be happy about the semi reminded himself dutifully as the tractor trailer he was attached to was loaded with frozen dinners. He was happy in fact. The children were all safe as were three of the Autobots. Optimus would be happy about that. The Prime wouldn't be sulking. He would just accept that you can't do everything all the time.

"Bear scratch," the dark truck hissed as he reached out and began tearing up a nearby bush.

"Easy Sal," Zech cautioned as he came around from the loading with a clipboard. "It's pretty populated here. Lots of iJunk."

The semi grumbled and settled down. They were too far out of Clan territory for him to get careless. But he was just so frustrated. They had rolled out days ago thinking that they would at least find one of the kids themselves. Okay, they knew it was a big country and it was unlikely that they would actually manage to get to the children before the masses of searchers did. Well, Zech had known and accepted it. Sal just felt cheated. He had been the one to rush out of a nice warm bedroom in the middle of the night and selflessly risk flying in one of those swamp awful contraptions to help them, and now he didn't even get one whiff of their scent as a reward. Sulkily he reached out a quick tie strap and snatched the rest of the shrub up by the roots and pulled it into his engine compartment to chew on in peace.

Here they were, with the voidwalkers who were his friends still scattered across the continent, some possibly dead, and he was delivering frozen TV dinners that even he would think twice about eating. It was unfair. It was unjust, but back to work they went. He should be out there with Optimus helping fight the bad guys, or at least getting to know that little blue one better. She didn't even remember him and he wanted to fix that. Maybe he could talk Zech into letting them meet up with Jack. Probably not. From what they had heard over the CB the kid was in Nebraska by now. He could never catch up with that fast little bike. The truck groaned and ignored the nervous look that one of the loaders gave him. Zech sighed and closed the last of the sliders before jogging forward to the cab. Sal expelled a cloud of sawdust and growled a little as a youth climbed into the passenger side.

"Ah, Franklin sir," the lanky ginger stated a bit nervously shifting in the seat and jumping as the belt buckled of its own accord.

"Cousin," Sal muttered darkly causing the boy to pale even further if that was possible.

"Easy there," Zech stated with a grin, "he never bites family to kill."

Two green eyes latched onto the other human as if desperate to tell if he was being serious. The big rig pulled out and rolled forward with a deliberate belch of black smoke. Zech tried to keep the younger cousin occupied with light chatting but the situation was clearly making the sandy red-head uncomfortable. Finally Sal just growled and gave a short blast of his air horn.

"Give it up Zech. The kid is clearly just here so he can tell his folks that he tried out at least one job before he gave up and went back to his little beeping things."

The trucker shot his brother a sharp look and the youth flushed a bright red.

"Hey! I just agreed to help out cuz Dad said you needed it. I admit I'm not interested in the family business, at least not the hauling part," he said defensively.

"Really what part are you interested in?" Zech asked quickly.

"IT," he said quieting down again, seemingly as afraid of the human three times his size as he was of the mysterious family semi.

"So computers and information," the older man perused. "A lot of that needed in the industry these days. I'd say the Franklin system could use an update or three."

"That's what I said!" the cousin burst out, "but Dad said the current system works just fine and that there are things we just can't risk putting on computers."

"Well that last bit is true enough," Zech conceded glancing meaningfully at the engine compartment.

"Yeah, but that doesn't matter until the aliens land," the boy huffed slamming his shoulders back into the seat.

"How do you know they haven't yet?" Zech asked in a half joking tone and Sal gave a rumbling laugh.

The ginger scowled and sulked into the seat again muttering.

"What did you say?" Sal asked suddenly interested.

"I belong to several online communities," the kid muttered. "They keep track of all of the supposed sightings and stuff and we discuss them. So far nothing, and with all the cameras in the world we'd have seen something by now. I don't know why they even called that conference at Kealkil."

There was silence for a moment as the youth wondered what he had said wrong from the grim look on his cousin's face.

"So how much information is on these sites?" the big rig asked finally letting Zech take over the driving.

Sensing the real interest in his strange cousin the freckled face lit up as he pulled out a gleaming device.

"Can I turn it on?" he asked eagerly. "Mom said you didn't like the EM field so I left it off."

"Go ahead!"

The boy activated the phone with a grin and it chirped demandingly almost immediately.

"Woah! Didn't think I'd get such a good signal way out here!"

"I'm boosting it," Sal muttered absently reaching out and tapping the device with a tentacle.

"You can do that?" awe and respect tinged the young voice.

"Easy, now show me the sites you were talking about? Were those alerts related?"

Zech eyed the interaction warily. He had a basic idea where this was going and he wasn't sure he liked it.

"Yup! Different tone for text's let's see. Ha! Robo bigfoot. Obviously faked but entertaining. This is actually a new one."

Eighteen wheels locked as the truck screeched to a stop at the side of the road. Without a word the ginger released the phone to the swarm of black tentacles that snatched it. Delicately a fine obsidian black appendage traced over the small screen.

"It's him! Zech! Look! He's alone! In a junk yard! We have to help-"

"Salcha!" the trucker barked out jerking his head towards the younger cousin whose hazel eyes were as wide as saucers.

"Oh, yeah. Listen kid don't tell anyone about what you are about to hear. Better yet-" the door popped open and the youth was unceremoniously tossed out on the side of the road.

"Sal," Zech groaned.

"We have to go there Big Brother! Please," the semi insisted desperately.

"Why? Why us?"

"The kids are taken care of. The clan will watch out for them no question, but we are the only ones who dare help out one of _them_."

"What makes you think he needs help?"

"He is alone in a junkyard for robin's sake! Who hangs out in a graveyard? And look at his face! He is _alone_."

The emphasis on the last word carried undertones of Sal's special subsonics and the human felt a chill of bone deep loneliness wash over him. Zech was quiet for a moment before nodding with a sigh.

"Why am I even having to explain this to you?" the truck demanded in frustration. "You are supposed to be the reasonable one!"

"Sal, back at the base," Zech began hesitantly. "I tried to look for Optimus-I," his hands clenched on the steering wheel. "I guess I'm getting to old finally. I should probably have the doc check my growth plates…"

There was a deep silence as the human stared forlornly out the window.

"You hurt yourself bad didn't you?" Sal asked softly as understanding came and a soft bronze tentacle reached out to stroke his brother's face. "Worse than you let me know."

"I thought I would have healed by now," Zech continued, "but I can still feel the damage. Looking back I don't think I ever healed quite properly from helping Optimus that first time. Maybe in a few months I can risk getting closer to them but…" he drifted off and Sal gave a growl.

"Until then, if I want to help I have to go by my cranky old self and check up on a voidwalker who doesn't know me and, more importantly, isn't Optimus with no humans around to run interference if I do something stupid."

"Pretty much."

"Can you at least look at a picture of him without hurting yourself?"

"Yeah, hand it here," Zech sighed.

He took the phone and arched an eyebrow.

"Ah. Sal?"

He turned the device to show the screen and Salcha gave a cough of shock. He raised a sensory tentacle and waved it over the animation.

"That wasn't there before! It was the healer! Honest!"

"Well it's a dancing monkey now," Zech said with a smile. "I believe you Sal."

"Get in here!" the semi growled yanking the befuddled cousin back into the cab. "Explain this!"

The ginger stared at the screen for a moment then scowled as he realized what the truck was referring to.

"DigitalDynamo."

"What?"

"He's a hacker. That was the screen name I first recognized him under but he uses at least fifty different aliases. He's some self proclaimed defender of the internet. He never makes much noise and hides his tracks well but he is responsible for a lot of evidence being deleted. The forums are trying to track him down but he is good. Dropped off the radar for a few days but obviously he's back. Wait, why are you so interested in the first place?"

"I'll be bailing out with the so called food," Zech stated as the engine roared to life and the truck pulled out. "Listen carefully cousin. You are going to escort Sal to the site that picture was taken. You will distract the owner of the junkyard while Sal takes care of some business. Then you will escort him back to me. Got it?" the man spoke in a commanding tone and locked eyes with the youth who nodded nervously.

Clan law required he obey and despite the oddity of the situation he would. They dropped the cargo as scheduled and Zech found a hotel while Sal ran bobtail the distance to the sighting. He was fiercely glad that the cousin was there. Even if he couldn't tell him what was really going on he could talk out his nerves on other subjects and the lanky ginger was a good listener. Meanwhile his thoughts spun round and round. Was Ratchet still there? Would he need help? Would he accept help from Sal? They had worked together once, sort of. He left the cousin to deal with the owner of the junkyard and rolled nervously into the stacks of rusted cars.

As soon as he was out of sight of the humans the enormity of the situation hit him like a blow and his engine stalled. A sound suspiciously like a whimper came out of the engine compartment and Sal rocked back and forth on his wheels. No humans. No barrier. No connection. He was going to face a voidwalker with only himself to rely on. Optimus didn't count. He was Optimus. The Prime. Easy to like, easy to respect, easily liking in return. This was an unknown factor. One who had been upset with Sal for not sharing the secret of the excretions that helped the sparklings. Not that Ratchet had known who the mysterious source of the stuff was. Should he bring that up? What would Zech do? Oh Denali, Sal wanted one of his humans so badly. This was what they were meant for. What they had been designed for. Not him. The semi has almost talked himself into retreating when the wind carried a warm scent to him.

"Rafael?" he asked eagerly following the child's lingering smell eagerly around the maze of rusting metal.

The scent was fresh. He might still be here. Oh that would be good! Little ones like him always made things smoother. The creature was so eagerly following the trail he didn't realize he had found the medic until the mech snarled gruffly.

"I said leave me alone!"

The big rig froze in the darkness, suddenly silenced by fear as he beheld the rear end of the red and white medic. He was here. He was totally unprepared but there was nothing to do but go forward.

"Ah, hello Healer Ratchet?"

"What?" curiosity tinged the harsh voice as the ambulance turned, then a cry of shock escaped his vocalizer and the medic transformed reaching a shaking hand out to the semi. "By the Allspark! Optimus!"


	7. Home

**Where the Heart Is 7**

**Home**

**A Transformers Prime Fanfiction**

**Set During the Events of "Darkest Hour" "Darkmount NV" "Scattered" "Prey"**

The medic rolled forward but hesitated when the semi did not respond immediately. With a phalanx of dark clouds rolling in to obscure the moon and threatening rain it was difficult to make out details.

"Optimus?" he asked nervously directing several passive scans at the frame and feeling his spark clench as they returned odd readings.

The Autobot activated his headlights and with a cry of fear the rolled back away from the gunmetal grey big rig.

"Optimus!" there was agony and terror in the voice now.

"No!" Sal finally managed to blurt out rolling forward a short pace, realizing the problem instantly. "I'm not Optimus! And I'm not dead! I chose these colors to be scary to Decepticons," _and Autobots too_ he thought privately and was quite proud of himself for keeping that gem to himself, very politic.

A roll of thunder barked in the distance as the red and white seemed to consider his words suspiciously.

"Who or what are you then?" Ratchet demanded.

"I'm Salcha Franklin. The trucker."

"You are an Autobot?"

"No."

"I highly doubt that you are a Decepticon seeing that I still function," the medic snorted. "Not that it matters."

"I, I'm not Cybertronian."

"Oh," the Autobot seemed to slump down on his wheels before turning back to the scrapheaps.

_Bear scratch._ Salcha thought in frustration. He had just killed the curiosity in a scientist. That meant he had messed up royally somehow already and they weren't even past introductions. To make matters a bit better soft fat drops of rain began to strike his hood and cab cooling his hot nervousness.

Ratchet heard the truck roll closer and deliberately turned off his headlights. There was a small flicker of curiosity in him about what this strange creature was but it quickly died under the weight of his heavy spark.

"Healer Ratchet? Or, is it Elder Ratchet?"

"Go away."

Sal winced at the harsh tones pulling his tentacles in close to his core mass. This, this was not what he had imagined. Why was the healer being so mean? What had he done wrong? The semi was only trying to help. Gathering his determination up again the truck rolled forward until he was only a few feet from the red and white ambulance.

"Rafael was here," he offered nervously.

"What of it?" Ratchet demanded harshly.

"Is he well?"

"He was fine the last time I saw him," the medic muttered softly.

"That's good. That's good. Are you hungry? Do you need food?"

"What part of go away don't you understand?" the Autobot snarled.

Sal hesitated, mulling over the question. Was it rhetorical? Sometimes questions like that were but it was better to be safe than sorry. Always showing respect was crucial was what Ma said. But had he been wrong to offer food? That worked for humans and Others but the whole point of the Erie Accords was that voidwalkers were different. Maybe the direct approach was best.

"The part where you are hiding out in a cold rusty junkyard when you could just go home."

With a choking roar of rage the ambulance transformed and loomed over the big rig threateningly.

"How dare you!" he snarled. "How dare you!"

Sal backed away, fear suddenly boiling up inside him. The reality that this was indeed a voidwalker, something of another world entirely, surged over the semi burning away what confidence he had managed to build up in the comforting presence of the ambulance. The healer was ranting now as he stepped closer; saying something about how much they had sacrificed for Earth. The truck was planning his escape route frantically, cursing himself for thinking he could do this when something the medic said caught his attention and made his stomachs seize up.

"What did you say?" he growled suddenly surging forward.

"I said I have no home to go to," Ratchet snapped blue optics blazing.

"No," Salcha whispered.

"Yes! Destroyed with no chance of restoring-"

"No!" the semi roared surging forward and pinning the mech to the tower of crushed cars in a rain of rust and shavings.

Caught off guard by the previously submissive behavior of the stranger the medic could only gasp in shock as he was roughly held against the pile.

"No! You said Rafael was just here and Bumblebee was with him! I can smell it! Jack is with Arcee I know and the big green one is with Miko. I may not know where the rookie is but you are wrong! You have to be wrong!"

With each pronouncement the gunmetal grey rig shoved the mech harder into the cold steel behind him.

"Please, be wrong," Salcha whimpered finally letting off the pressure as he seemed to crumple a bit.

The Autobot stared at the wide windshield through the thickening rain mouth agape, curiosity and indignity finally getting the best of his lethargy.

"What is wrong with your processor? I said that my home was destroyed. Not the rest of Team Prime! As far as I know the rest of them are fine. Only," his voice caught and his blue optics dropped to the dark hood as his servos dug into the carbon fiber, "only Optiums stayed behind to make sure no Decepticons could follow us."

The pressure against his chassis released as the truck backed up slowly a strange gurgling coming from the dark engine compartment.

"Franklin? That is the trucking company that handles our deliveries most often isn't it?" the medic realized connecting the dots.

A sound that might have been agreement came from the big rig followed by a moment of silence.

"Optimus stayed behind? In the base? When the Decepticons," a choked sound of near rage came, "when they did what they did?"

"Yes."

The urge to roll forward and seek comfort from the mech suddenly seized the semi but he fought it down. He was here to help Ratchet not the other way around. Gathering himself the truck spoke."

"Still you don't know if he is gone. How can you say that your home is destroyed?"

"Would you try to make sense?" the medic snarled shaking his helm in frustration.

"I am trying!" Sal snarled, anger flaring. "I am trying hard! I'm not a human!"

"Ah-ah-ah," Ratchet sputtered trying to make sense of what the Peterbuilt was saying, finally he gave a vigorous shake of his helm and decided to offer an explanation for the simplest question hoping it would get rid of the intruder.

"My home, our home, Cybertron. The war has destroyed it. There was a chance, Primus there was a chance," the medic covered his faceplates with his servos, "to fix it, to rebuild everything. We were so close. If I had watched the children more closely Megatron would never have taken them. Optimus would not have had to surrender the keys. The Omega lock would have been ours," bitterness tainted his voice, "but Megatron took the Lock and turned it on Earth. Optimus would not let him destroy this planet as ours had been so he struck the Omega Lock with the Starsaber. So the children are safe, Earth is safe, and our home is dead for all time."

There was dead silence for several moments and the distraught medic found himself wondering what was going on in the other's processor and if it was going to leave anytime soon.

"So, your home is a place?" there was confusion and disbelief in the question.

"Of course!" Ratchet snarled. "That is what a home is! The place where you are from!"

There was another moment of silence that seemed to drag on forever interrupted only by small sounds from within the engine compartment. The medic found himself fascinated as he watched the creature struggle with the concept. Finally the semi seemed to shake himself and gave a patient sigh.

"No."

"No what?"Ratchet demanded.

"I have tried to look at it from your perspective. I know we are different and can see things differently," the Franklin sounded obviously proud of himself for recognizing this, "but nope, you are just wrong."

"Wrong about what?" the medic huffed in annoyance.

"Home. It is not a place. Well not one place."

"Then what pray tell is a home?" the Autobot demanded sarcastically.

There was another moment of the grinding thoughtful pause.

"Home is where Pa makes a safe place for the girls to sleep and Ma fills it with soft things to make the sleeping easier. Home is where the brothers fight over who gets to wash their faces first and Galena smacks them into order. Home is where Zech does something stupid but we all forgive him anyway because he loves us. Home is wherever my family is. It's," he hesitated, the strange mech was staring at him with a blank unreadable face and the Cybertronians did not give off pheromones like humans did so he didn't know if his words were sinking home.

What was Ratchet thinking? Suddenly an old saying came to Sal and he staggered a bit at the revelation that came with it.

"Home is where the heart is," he whispered rolling away uneasily from the medic as he felt his respect for the healer suddenly drop. "And your heart is where your treasure is. So," he wanted to bolt to leave but, "so I guess your treasure was that dead planet," but for the first time in his life he felt the need to understand so strongly, "instead of with your family," he had fought for the sparklings' lives with this healer, "so when the planet was dead your home was gone," he didn't want Ratchet, the one he respected to be that shallow, "that's what you meant?"

The semi was angled to roll out of there now, ready to be gone but he let his senses linger on medic trying to make sense of the shocked blank look on the white faceplates through the pounding rain.

"Primus no," Ratchet suddenly groaned falling to his knees, servos digging into the rusty mud. "No, I have a family; had a family but our leader, our 'Pa' is gone. What do you do when the one who is supposed to make the safe place is no longer, no longer…"

"Then it would be my time to make the safe place for the others to call home," Sal said softly rolling a bit closer. "That time will come for me. I do not age. Someday Pa will pass, and then Ma. Zech and Lola will have a family then and my home will be wherever they are. But someday they will be gone too and then it will be up to me to make the safe places."

Ratchet groaned and threw his head back to look up at the dark clouds. Salcha rolled a little closer.

"Don't you have little ones who need you?"

The question hurt and the medic hunched as his all too helpful processor offered up a string of images. The little yellow and black scout clinging to his servos in fear as he realized he would never speak again, drawing strength from the mech who was so much older. Rafael adjusting his glasses in pride as the medic invited him to watch the latest Synth-En experiment. The human bent over his laptop, face twisted in intense concentration as he tried to understand the spiraling alien code the medic was inputting.

Looking at the defeated form before him Sal found himself at a loss. No more ideas popped into his mind. No more words offered themselves. Feeling foolish for ever thinking he could do the humans' task he gave a groan, muttered a goodbye, and rolled slowly back to where the cousin was standing on the covered porch of the junk yard. He opened his driver's door and the lanky ginger climbed in quietly.

"Didn't go too good huh?" the human asked softly.

Sal was about to reply when the determined roar of an engine roared out over the rain behind him. A red and white ambulance came tearing around the piles throwing up sprays of mud in every direction. Salcha lurched forward throwing his cousin against his seatbelts to intercept the mad flight of the medic. Ratchet transformed to avoid crashing into the semi and caught himself with both hands on the dark hood.

"Where are you going Healer Ratchet?" the big rig asked a flare of hope rippling through his stomachs.

"Home!" the medic laughed before leaping over the engine compartment and spinning out of the junkyard.

As soon as he hit the road red lights began to flash and the drone of his siren rolled away into the rain. Inside the warmth of the semi's cab a freckled face stared agape at the retreating ambulance.

"He was, that was a, Thunder over Denali Sal! Was that?"

"Yup."

"And I can't tell a soul…"

"Nope"

"You smug little trucker! How under the wolf moon are you able to handle this?"

"Oh, I guess you humans aren't the only ones with social skills."

The cousin laughed at the tone and shook his head.

"I guess I need to be more careful about what I put in the computer databases after all."

The road to the _Harbinger_ seemed far too long to the old medic but finally he made it to the secluded mountain side where erosion had exposed the entrance. He transformed and carefully walked the echoing halls until he came to the engine compartment. A fierce grin split his faceplates but warred with a worried frown. His spark leapt to see the two youngest members of Team Prime diligently toiling, doing their best to make the situation better but how they were doing it, a groan nearly escaped him as Bumblebee plugged the worn and decayed energon conduit into the power coupling. One glance at the display showed that Rafael had completely miss-calibrated the energon tranceducer. Still pride swelled in the medic's spark as the human danced over the Decepticon controls and the lights flared and inevitably dimmed. To get even this far with the resources available to him was an astounding feat for one so young. Still no need to let the youth get cocky.

"Eh, eh, ep!" He called out schooling his faceplates into a scolding frown as he saw the boy began to attempt the process again.

Shock replaced the concentration as the human spun to face the sound. Bumblebee darted over to his charge's side.

*Do you see what I'm seeing Raf?*

"Ratchet!" Relief and joy filled the tired voice as the boy stepped forward to greet his mentor.

Primus knew when the human had last slept or eaten. Bumblebee usually remembered to make sure Raf took care of himself but they both looked tired and worn. Fierce protective programs rose to the surface as the medic stared down at the youngling and he fought down the undignified urge to snatch both of them up in his arms and just hold them for awhile.

"Now step out of my way so I can work."

He brushed the scout to one side with the wave of an arm and shooed Raf back from the consol with his servos. The Autobot managed to keep his face stoic and emotionless for a few seconds as he focused on the task at hand but from behind him Bumblebee's field radiated joy and relief and trust, all of it pressing as close into his own field as the youngster dared. In front of him Rafael stared up with a look of faith and hope the like of which the medic had never had directed at him. His old spark swelled with determination and resolve. He was not Optimus but for now he was all these young ones had. The _Harbinger_ might be only a derelict Decepticon warship caught in the rock of distant organic world, but for so long as it contained even one of his charges, it was something else entirely, or he would make it something else, for them. The thought filled his spark to over flowing and the old Bot could not hide the warm smile that lit his faceplates.

_Home. _


	8. Greetings

**Where the Heart Is 8**

**Greetings**

**A Transformers Prime Fanfiction**

**Set During the Events of "Darkest Hour" "Darkmount NV" "Scattered" "Prey"**

"And Cousin Martin in the Defense department says that the Bureaucrats all gave the Autobots a collective pat on the back and offered them the use of this base."

Zech was filling in his brother on what information the clan had been able to gather through their military members as they rolled down the highway a few weeks later. A solid week in a healing retreat had left the human smelling saturated with hot spring minerals and well enough to risk taking a job for their friends. In the meantime and much to Salcha's annoyance other Franklins had been hauling the needed supplies for the new base. There had been piles of confidentiality forms and not being in the loop the other truckers had not brought any word on how the patchwork family was doing after everything. They had at least mentioned in passing a blue and red semi hanging around the Unit E base, something that had made Sal relax a bit at least.

Now as they drew closer to the complex of nondescript hangers the Clansmember couldn't help growing tense with nerves. He let his older brother take over the driving and divided his attention between monitoring Zech's vital signs like a hawk, searching the sky above for any unusual aircraft, and frantically wishing he'd done better with the Healer. There was no doubt that by this time the medic had figured out that this was not the first time he had been in an Autobot base. Who knew how the cranky old one would react? Still driving him forward was the urge to see for himself that Optimus was alive and well.

Now that he thought about it the matter truly confused him. According to all he had learned from the elders he should not have been able to form such a friendship with the voidwalker. Granted it was not as if he was one of, or even remotely like to, the more well understood Others but still; before he had met the Autobot he had shown all the signs of permanent xenophobia that the rest of the non-human Clan did. No, something was odd there. Something had changed other than him, and the Others didn't change so that left the…

"Zech?" Sal suddenly spoke up.

"Hmm."

"Are humans doing the Wilderness Protocol with the Autobots?"

His brother gave no outward reaction other than tightening his hands slightly on the steering wheel. The semi cheered inwardly, glad he had thought to infuse the wheel with nerves this time.

"You are!"

"You seem pleased with the concept," Zech stated noncommittally.

"You bet your last pair of snowshoes I am! Wow! This will make everything so much easier!"

"How do you know? Even if we were it is still far too soon to see results and even then you are too rooted in the first three dimensions to-"

"Because it's working!" Sal exclaimed excitedly. "Nurse Darby and Agent Fowler count as the first generation right? Right? And Jack and Miko and Raf are the second. And that's one direct blood line with the Darbys. Then Jack had Skyfire, Stormbreaker, and Cometflare. That makes a third generation in one linage! One linage I was directly exposed to! And-and-and, Denali! Optimus has the guardian bond with Jack so that adds him to the first generation, and he gave me some of his life's blood! I can already feel it working!" the deep voice was somehow managing to squeal with delight.

"Uh huh," Zech stared speculatively down at his brother. "That's not how it works Bro."

"Oh, I know it won't affect the Others yet," Sal snorted dismissively, "but I am close to the matter and we know I only have three senses that overlap with yours. So even if I am rooted I can be affected by the Barrier."

"You know you could just chalk it up to you being more flexible than the healers figured."

"Nope! The Wilderness Protocol is working. I'm sure of it."

Rather than argue the point further Zech simply shook his head as the truck pulled up to the base gate and he flashed his pass. The guard waved them through and the human could tell that the semi was straining to stay under the speed limit as they approached the hanger marked with an "E".

"Oh good," Sal said with relief. "They already have the main base shielded."

"Sal, you had better not be trying to hack military computers."

"Zech! Really, would I do that?"

Silence filled the cab.

"I mean again," the big rig amended.

The silence stretched out.

"Where I could get caught," his partner finally added.

"Oh Denali Brother," Zech groaned as the hanger doors opened for them. "What am I going to do with you?"

Sal was no longer paying attention as he scanned the interior of the base eagerly. There, three sports cars sat side by side against the wall. It looked like two had changed their coloring. The semi felt a happy glow when he spotted the little ducati leaning saucily to one side by the elevated platform. The red and white ambulance was sitting by a scattered pile of spare parts that looked and smelled as if they had just been pulled out of a mine. Most importantly sitting to the side of the medic…

The big rig felt a funny lurch in his stomachs as Zech hit the brakes and climbed out of the cab headed for Fowler. There was another semi sitting beside Ratchet. But it was most defiantly not Optimus; for hare's sake it was a Kenworth! The big rig forced his attention away from the suspicious interloper to clear his mind. He would not make a scene in front of Arcee. Maybe make a scene with the pretty little bike, but that was a different matter. Back in the shadows a green SUV sat quietly. The semi's awareness fell on a combat vehicle, one cousin Bob had been drooling over for a year or so now, and he felt a confusing wash of disappointment and joy. There was no doubt it was Optimus, but he was changed; very changed. His new body was a war machine, every line screaming that it was meant to destroy. Sal fought back a whimper and stood still while a master sergeant signed off on his load and Fowler ushered Zech towards the mess hall for lunch and to finish the paperwork. As soon as the humans had cleared out the new semi transformed and nodded in the direction of the Franklin.

"Smokescreen, Bumblebee, unload that truck and place the contents in storage locker seven-"

"Ah, ah, ah!" Ratchet interjected as he transformed and shook his helm. "Ultra Magnus, I am still organizing lockers three through nine and zero through two are full."

While he spoke the rest of the Autobots transformed. Sal was marginally glad to see Optimus at this point but his altered form coupled with suddenly being surrounded by mechs and not vehicles started the panic rising.

"Very well," the one named Ultra Magnus continued, "I will request of the natives that we be allowed to keep the tractor trailer for the time being to store the shipment. In the meantime I will unhitch it and the two of you can examine the-"

Unable to hold still any longer Sal backed up with a threatening snarl.

"Touch my trailer and I will eat your fingers mech!"

The thought that that was not perhaps the best way to begin the conversation occurred to the big rig as the hum of several energy weapons powering up filled the hanger. The Autobots had leapt back with varying cries of shock and warning and he found himself at the center of a circle of glowing dots.

"Autobots," Optimus said in a commanding tone drawing their attention to him for a split-second.

That was all Sal needed. Before the warriors could react he had unhitched from the trailer and darted around to sit behind Optimus's thick legs. The other warriors tracked him with their weapons but were clearly reluctant to fire in the direction of their leader.

"Optimus!" Ultra Magnus started striding forward.

"Hold!" the Prime ordered in a tone that caused every mech in the room to freeze. "Lower your weapons. They are not needed."

They watched in astonishment as their leader turned to the literally trembling death colored semi and gently laid a hand on the canopy.

"Rest easy Salcha. You are among friends."

"Salcha?" Ratchet asked blinking in surprise.

"I, I know that Optimus," Sal said in a small voice. "I'm sorry I just panicked." His tone dropped to an awed whisper. "There are just so _many_ of you."

The semi nuzzled a little closer to the Autobot feeling of his life-force. It felt odd, but it was still Optimus. The Prime gently caressed the carbon fiber skin and hummed reassuringly.

"Going to introduce us?" a voice piped up lightly interrupting the moment.

"Oh hey Arcee," Sal said nosing out a bit from the protection of the thick silver legs.

"How do you know my name," the femme asked narrowing her optics dangerously.

Several answers suggested themselves to the semi but given that there were most likely children around he decided to keep it clean.

"Jack talks about you a lot."

Bumblebee's optics lit up in recognition and he gave a string of whistles and chirps.

"Wait, what sparklings?" Smokescreen asked in shock.

"Hey yeah! You're Salcha, one of the brother's Franklin!" Bulkhead exclaimed suddenly striding forward with his hand out in welcome. "It's great to finally get to meet you."

Sal snarled audibly and pulled back behind Optimus leaving a shocked and hurt looking Bulkhead holding out his hand.

"I think it would be best if we gave our guest some room," the Prime stated gently stroking the shaking frame.

"I'm fine really," the grey semi got out. "It's just all a little much all the sudden."

"Why have you not yet reported for duty with the main unit soldier?" the new truck demanded from a respectful distance.

Optimus was about to answer but the trucker forced himself, most of the way, out from under the red and blue mech's protection and spoke up.

"I am a civilian, sir. I'm not Cybertronian either. I just haul for Team Prime a lot so I have pretty high clearance. And it's okay if you guys come closer now. I just, it's the first time I've seen you all up this close together."

"I see," the tall mech nodded.

"So if you aren't Cybertronian what are you?" Arcee asked walking forward curiously.

"Glad to see you up and about Toots!"Sal quipped reaching out with a tie strap and pinching her aft lightly.

Her face contorted in shock and silver arm blades came down in a blur but the semi was ready, yanking the appendage back before she could connect with a laugh, then a yelp as the black strap was pinned to his side by a sword point.

"I think you better keep your bits to yourself," the white, red, and green mech growled. "If you want to keep them that is."

"Sure thing," the grey big rig answered laughing again. "Sorry Arcee ma'am. I didn't mean to insult you but I am just so glad to see you all alive after I saw what happened to Omega One," his voice caught and he pressed against Optimus again. "I was so worried."

"Your inappropriate behavior and joking aside," Ultra Magnus began with a frown. "You did not answer her question. What are you?"

"That is perhaps not the most pertinent question," Optimus interjected smoothly.

"Oh!" Sal lifted a tie strap and coiled it lightly around the great mech's hand. "Thanks Optimus Prime Sir! But that isn't necessary. When we talked last I kind of got thinking that it would be good to have an answer to that question even if I didn't care." Several tie straps reached into his cab as he talked. "Now where was it? Ah, here!"

The gunmetal grey semi pulled out a crisp sheaf of papers and held it out to the commander proudly.

"And this is?"

"I had some scientists in my family figure out what I was! It's all in there." Sal turned towards Arcee. "I had to spend a whole week in their crazy lab for them to get all the readings! But look at it!" He turned back to Ultra Magnus. "It says what I am! A complete description full of big old words and Latin! Isn't it all sciency?"

The Autobot gingerly took the proffered report and delicately examined the front page.

"It is indeed a scientific description," he said a bit dubiously.

"So you don't know what you are?" Smokescreen asked curiously. "How does that work?"

"Well as far as I know there is only one of me so why does it really matter?"

Bumblebee chirped out something in disbelief and Wheeljack snorted.

"True that."

"What did he say?" Sal demanded.

Optimus observed the interactions closely even as he carefully backed away from the gunmetal grey semi. Salcha was now freely and easily talking with the rest of Team Prime as if he had known them all his life. The Prime smiled at the antics of the young creature and turned to where his medic and second in command were waiting.

"So you have known that this Mr. Franklin was not human for some time?" Ratchet asked softly.

"I have," Optimus freely admitted. "If you remember those few days I was missing? I was accompanied by him."

"And he is the one who brought the sparklings to us? And delivered Jack when he was missing during the time distortion incident?"

The Prime nodded and smiled.

"It is in fact in no small part due to Salcha's intervention that Jack was returned to us safely. He is apparently temporally grounded and was able to maintain functional memories throughout the ordeal."

"So it touches on in this document," the medic agreed as he examined the paper. "Though how that is possible is beyond me."

"Optimus," Ultra Magnus interjected with a frown, "at several pointed you have mentioned sparklings?"

At the stricken looks on both the Prime's and Ratchet's faces the Commander fell silent. Optimus heaved a long vent.

"It is a long story Ultra Magnus. For now suffice it to say for a short time it was our privilege to assist in the care of three sparklings."

The commander looked as if he wanted to peruse the matter further but only nodded and turned his attention back to where the gunmetal grey rig was now rolling towards them with Smokescreen and Bumblebee following eagerly after.

"Ah, Optimus," Sal started a bit nervously. "I need… I need-" the semi cut off and edged a bit away from where Smokescreen's thigh was brushing his bumper.

"You need what Mr. Franklin?" Ultra Magnus asked curtly.

At the sound of his voice the big rig froze, emitted a gurgling roar that caused every being within a quarter mile to flinch away or outright run, and bolted for the door. The Autobots stared after him in shock and then glanced at their Prime. To the added confusion of the base a small smile was pulling at the corners of the red and blue mech's faceplates.

"What the scrap was that?" Wheeljack demanded.

"Mr. Franklin is not as comfortable with new species as our human allies are," the leader of the Autobots explained. "I was quite surprised he maintained his calm for as long as he did."

Bumblebee whistled sounding a bit hurt.

"No, his friendliness was genuine, and I do not doubt that he enjoyed the brief interactions. Salcha is a being of extreme emotions and he does not have the same level of control over them as we do. The slightest discomfort could send him into a panic if properly reinforced," Optimus patiently explained as he transformed. "I will go and speak to him now. It would be best if you remained here. He will most likely want to continue the conversation when he gets back."

The Autobots murmured in assent as the red and blue war machine rolled out after the rapidly disappearing semi. The Prime followed his friend at a respectful distance until the frantic pace slowed and Sal fell back to cruise beside him along the base road. They were silent for a moment before Sal gave an embarrassed groan.

"Sorry about that Optimus. I don't know what came over me. I like your soldiers," he hastened to assure the Cybertronian. "I really do but, I-I just. There were so many of them and they were so different and, and-"

Optimus rolled to a stop beside the faltering big rig and rumbled gently before nuzzling into the carbon fiber and steel of his side. Accepting the gesture as both forgiveness and understanding Salcha growled happily and returned the pressure.

"But this is good," the trucker spoke up finally. "I do need to talk to you privately."

"Regarding?"

"Not here," the semi stated a bit grimly. "We need to get away from the humans. Drive with me?"

The two set off and soon left the military base proper. Sal led Optimus off road and into a secluded canyon before turning on the battle rig with a sigh.

"I really miss your old body," the trucker stated forlornly.

"Why is this one less pleasing?" Optimus asked knowing it was best not to push whatever issue the semi wanted to discuss.

Sal was quiet for a moment then rolled forward and almost tenderly ran his tie strap over the cab speaking as if quoting.

"Thy king cometh unto thee, meek and sitting on an ass."

The Prime remained silent.

"In the old days if a king came into the city on a donkey, an ass, it meant he came in peace. The donkey was what the haulers used before trucks were invented. They were slow and strong and could go for miles like a semi. If he came on a horse it meant he meant war. This new alt mode of yours. It's a war horse, no good for hauling and very dangerous. Your old one; to me at least that you had chosen the modern day donkey for your alt mode, it meant you came in peace, more than your words ever did."

"I see," Optimus rumbled softly.

"That and it's harder to snuggle you like this," Salcha grumbled demonstrating by trying to rub up against the vehicle again.

The Prime chuckled fondly and transformed to run his hands over the grey form. The trucker responded by leaning into the touch with a happy growl.

"Oh!" Sal started and rolled back a bit. "But you are very busy and I need to tell you this before Zech realizes I'm missing!"

Optimus frowned.

"Your brother does not know you are giving me this information?"

"No! And he can't! It's about the Others."

"Salcha-"

"Look Optimus," the truck growled, "the reason you didn't want me to tell you before was that it might put my family in danger right? Well thanks to you, to what you've done, they are already in danger. I can't possibly make this situation worse by talking to you. But by telling you I can make it a bit safer for you and through you your humans. That was our first connection, remember? You do want to be able to keep Jack safe don't you?"

"Of course."

"Bottom line, the Others know you are here and they are furious."


	9. Explanations

**Where the Heart Is Epilogue 1**

**Explanations **

**A Transformers Prime Fanfiction**

**Set During the Events of "Darkest Hour" "Darkmount NV" "Scattered" "Prey"**

"You really messed up our planet you know that right?" Salcha was saying as he rolled back and forth in front of the Prime. "Not that it was all that great to start off with, humans are crazy and no one's denying that, but we had a balance. Things worked."

"I am aware that our war has damaged your planet and cost lives since we arrived," the Prime offered when it seemed a response was required.

The death colored semi growled pulled a few tight circles in front of the Cybertronian.

"No, that's not what I'm talking about. The humans? They can handle war. They know war. They can handle you. Meagtron? Please, we get one of him every generation. No, back when you, your kind, first came here it upset things."

"When we first came?" Optimus asked with a frown.

"Yeah. Then there was the Erie Accord, and the humans were chosen, and then they were set apart, and they aren't like me, they can't be apart. It hurts them."

Optimus stared thoughtfully down at his companion.

"Perhaps you should begin at the beginning."

"Right. You already know that the humans are not the only-what's the word you use? Sentient, beings on this planet."

"Clearly," Optimus said with a smile nodding at the big rig circling in front of him.

"No."

"What?"

"I'm not counting myself," the Franklin stated grimly. "I depend of the humans for that. You know about the 'red oil' I require?"

"The human blood," the Prime acknowledged gently, stroking the trucker.

"I am almost certain that is the source of my sentience," Salcha went on bitterly, but leaning gratefully into the comforting touch. "My mind, my thinking ability, fades fast if I don't get that dose. My family has never let it go all the way but without it I don't even know if I would qualify as an animal."

Optimus looked as if he wanted to protest but the truck ploughed on.

"But there are the Others. They can think and reason and do all that stuff. Some of them can."

"Only some of this species?"

"You're not getting it," Sal growled in frustration. "This isn't one species or even a lot of species. Heck! I don't even know if you can call them 'species' at all. There is no one thing that you could point to and say, 'that is them'. Some look like animals, or can if they want to. Some look like humans. Some look like just light on the water. Others don't look like anything at all the only reason we know they are there is we can see what affect they have on the world around them."

The semi paused and seemed to be gathering himself.

"That is why we call them the Others. The only thing that unites them as a group is what they are not, and they are not human."

"You are not human," the Prime pointed out gently.

"Getting there, but you said start at the beginning. I guess it all really started several thousand years ago or so. Something bad happened. The details are sketchy. Humans are _really_ bad at remembering history. Some say it was Divine punishment, some say it was just the natural consequences of their actions, and some say random chance but the devastation was very real. Whatever it was ripped the sky, cracked the earth, froze the poles, flooded everything, and stole the fire from the core of the planet."

"The core?" Optimus demanded suddenly stiffening.

"Please don't interrupt," Sal groaned. "I am having to use logic, and reason, and piecing together hundreds of different story-histories to figure all this out and it _hurts_! I'm not human or Dragon!"

The Prime nodded and relaxed a bit as the creature continued.

"Anyway none of the Others had even seen what had happened. More of them survived the cataclysm than humans because they are," Sal paused and hummed trying to find a word, "different," he finally sighed. "In fact almost none died from the original disaster but they were so dependent on the humans that with only eight left many starved in the cold hungry days to come."

The Cybertronian clearly wanted to ask a question and Sal growled.

"Yes they starved because there were so few humans around for them to feed on! Don't look so shocked for the most part it's perfectly benig…benine…not hurting the humans. Like how plants rely on animals for carbon and animals rely on plants for oxygen. Humans give off," a deep growl of frustration came from the engine compartment, "something! Humans generate their own life energy and they make far more than they need. They still can't figure out what but it is like energon is to you and the Others absorb it. Like I said there was balance. After the disaster, with only four breeding pairs left there just wasn't enough to go around."

Sal gave a huff and began rocking back and forth muttering low. Just as Optimus was about to ask a question he darted forward and place a tie stap against the Prime's lip-plates.

"Shush! Thinking! Anyway the Others, they don't really care about human affairs as long as they are well fed so they never paid attention before. It took several human generations for the wisest of the Others to figure out what was happening and by then the lesser Others had begun actively hunting humans. By feeding directly on one human instead of passively absorbing from the collective they could get at a more concentrated form of the life-force. It wasn't the natural order of things and over time the process drove many of the Others mad and they began to prefer the fear tainted life-force over the freely given kind…Like I do," the final sentence was spoken low and shamefully.

The Prime frowned.

"It is difficult to see how the humans could have survived such a situation."

"Yeah, luckily humans breed pretty quickly, and they weren't without defenses. In fact for those who followed the old laws it was pretty difficult for the Others to get at them so they had to resort to trickery to lure the humans into their clutches but it got easier as the population increased and the humans began to forget what had happened and ignore the laws. Anyway the Others who were talking to the humans at the time got the story of the thing that had fallen from space, what they called the void, from the few left who remembered. They figured something should be done so they called a counsel. It took a long time to gather. Pretty much the only ones everyone would talk to were the humans and humans are fragile and forget tasks in just a few decades. Also none of the Others had seen the danger come in but a few could feel the heat draining out of Earth's core and see the effects of something poisoning the surface from beneath. From what the humans had told them the Dragons were able to turn their gaze outward and they saw something in the void; a path forged by the journey of the thing that had nearly destroyed our planet leading from this world to another. A strange world that they could not understand, where things moved as if they were alive but they could sense no life-force."

"Cybertron," Optimus murmured.

"That's what I figure," Sal agreed grimly. "And if Dragons were capable of being afraid they would have been. Finally enough of the Others had agreed to attend to make a Full Counsel and they gathered at Kealkil on the Emerald Isle. It was decided that one kind should be assigned to deal with it if any more of the ones who could walk across the void showed up. Which kind it would be was debated long and hard finally they decided."

"The ones who actually showed the ability to observe and react to the 'voidwalkers' in the first place," Optimus said as understanding dawned.

"Yup, humans; also the ones who had a proven track record of being able to deal with other, well, let's use 'species' for lack of a better word. Of course they didn't want the responsibility anymore than the Others and argued that their strength was in numbers and the cataclysm had left them too few to deal with the problem. That in fact in the intervening time more lesser voidwalkers were already here and that humanity's best weapons had been destroyed when the crust had shattered. They would need time to breed and prepare their strength again. So the Erie Accord was struck; basically the humans would protect Earth from any threat that came from the void, be it living or not, entirely by their own power. In exchange for dealing with the problem of the voidwalkers they would be granted protections. Mainly that there would be no hunting of humans so the population could rebound. If they failed the protections would be lifted and they would become fair game again. The Dragons estimated what they thought was the minimum time it would take for the voidwalkers to get here and set a small portion of that aside for the humans to breed up to safe numbers. Until that time was up the Dragons offered to use their powers to strike down any new voidwalkers that showed up, all the humans had to do was aim and they would blast them out of the sky. To deal with the voidwalkers already on the planet, Dragon powers are too great to use in the lower atmosphere I mean they seriously can burn the sky, certain humans were granted the use of powerful weapons. The controls for the weapons were woven into their bloodlines so if one fell he could pass the ability onto his offspring."

"So there humans were sent to battle the Predacons?" the Prime demanded in shock.

"Is that what you call the metal mockeries of the Dragons?" Sal asked. "If so yes. By the time the powered up humans found the voidwalkers still on Earth, remember there are seven big continents and the atmosphere was still reeling from the initial impact so travel was difficult, the man shaped ones had all killed each other off leaving their tools and what I am guessing form the description was energon behind. All that was left was those Predacons."

"This explains why my scouts did not report the presence of humans when they first landed," Optimus said thoughtfully. "The population was simply too small, and you say the humans slew the Predacons?"

Sal growled and bumped him.

"Did it not occur to you as odd that for creatures as long lived as you are that they died off in a few thousand years?"

The Prime was silent as he considered this and the semi went on.

"But no; they did not kill them all. You see that is where one of the Others' massive blind spots is. For as much as they depend on the humans they don't understand them. In order to keep the human eating Others from breaking the treaty the Barrier was formed. Humans give off that energy field I told you about? Well some of the Others were very skilled at manipulating that field. Imagine if each individual human produced one strand of energy. Each strand was woven together until the collected field of the human race formed a," Sal hesitated and huffed, "barrier isn't really the right word. They are something like the mortar in a stone wall; for as much as they keep the stones apart they bind them together. Anyway, at first the Barrier was weak and many of the Others could slip through and continue hunting. So the humans forged agreements, made alliances, that sort of thing for protection, thus the Northclan, and as their numbers grew so did the strength of the Barrier. It has been generations since most humans have seen an Other. Even in the Northclan it grows rarer with each passing year."

There was an odd smugness in the semi's voice at this point.

"Now calling the instructions the Others gave the humans vague would be overly optimistic. Basically they just said don't let bad things happen and don't let anything out there know about us. So the humans had to figure out what they were dealing with and how to do it on their own."

Sal stopped at this point and gave a dry chuckle.

"They all assumed that the humans would just go forth and destroy whatever they found. After all what is more dangerous than humanity? They are _good_ at war and destruction. So the humans prepared. They figured out early on that they could not completely sever their link to the Others. They were too connected and that posed a real problem because humans are bad at keeping secrets. Their solution was to create two worlds within one. The majority of humanity would be devoted to recreating the weapons of science and logic that had been lost and the memory of the Others would be hidden in legends. A few, like the Northclan would be assigned to remember and hold onto the old ways, to manage any interactions. In order to assure that nothing slipped through this double layer, safeties were woven into the bloodlines by the more cunning Others. Literally if a human even thinks about telling you anything about this, or even fails to protect the secret it could kill them from within. The less they know of the Others the safer it is for them. So the only ones allowed to interact with you were the ones from the bloodlines that had been assigned to forget. Because it is tied to the Barrier this mental block gets stronger as the population increases."

The big rig paused here and seemed to hesitate before plunging on.

"But anyway, the chosen warriors did find the Predacons. One of the first and greatest, he is known as St. George, killed many of them in his area but he also made a discovery. They weren't all bad. Most just killed humans who got too close to their treasures and a lot had taken to hunting humans for fun but some could be tamed. That was when the first hint of what was to come showed up but like I said the Others had a huge blind spot and never saw it coming. The humans started living with these 'dragons' who were peaceful; treating them like they did their allies and friends among the Others."

"Did not the Others eventually discover this and object?" Optimus asked.

"No," Sal replied, "because that was when the humans discovered what would become Wilderness Protocol. Understand this Prime" the death colored big rig was speaking low and earnestly now. "The only reason I can see you, recognize you as a living being, is the human blood I consume. The non-humans cannot perceive you directly. They can only see through the senses of the humans and they see through the aggregate, not the perspective of one human but that of all of them. Right now the humans see you as a 'not us' so if the Others were to really look for a voidwalker they would see you, and because the humans are technically still in that grace period the Dragons set out they would destroy you so the humans could finish their preparations."

The trucker wrung his tie-straps in frustration as he continued.

"Then there was the thing in the blind spot. The humans, they were never meant to be alone like they are now. They need friendship and companionship beyond themselves. The Others fulfilled that need but now they are cut off from that; cut off and forced into close association with a species," and now the deep voice took on a bitter tone, "that is far more compatible with them than the Others ever were."

"This is why the government is still keeping us a secret," Optimus stated nodding in understanding. "Since the majority of humanity is unaware of us the Others cannot locate us and cannot enact their plans. But that situation cannot last forever."

"No, that's where the Wilderness Protocol comes in," Sal continued. "I have been trying to figure out how to explain it and nothing sounds right but I will try my best. Humans have a superpower unlike anything else in the universe. At least that is what I thought until I met you. Cybertronians seem to have it too but not as strong. They can change reality."


	10. Dangers

**Where the Heart Is Epilogue 2**

**Dangers **

**A Transformers Prime Fanfiction**

**Set During the Events of "Darkest Hour" "Darkmount NV" "Scattered" "Prey"**

The dark clouds overhead seemed to block out the sunlight from the small canyon the mech and the semi occupied. The shrubs on the steep walls brushed the powerful red shoulders as the Prime shifted to crouch closer to the gunmetal grey big rig. Confusion and concern warred across the silver faceplates finally giving way to simple curiosity as he stroked the truck soothingly.

"I do not understand," Optimus prompted when the semi had been silent for some time.

Salcha groaned and rolled back and forth sending coarse orange sand spraying against the Cybertronian's peds.

"Okay. When Nurse Darby and Agent Fowler first met you they immediately recognized you as 'not us' right? Alien is the word."

"That is correct," Optimus agreed.

"They are fully mature humans, confident in their understanding of the universe. They know what 'us' is and you were 'not us' but they have come to see you as a friend, family even. That is he humans, power. None of the Others can do that. The humans are changing the reality of the situation. Before you were alien, now you are family. Both," Sal paused and ripped one of the low Manzanita bushes out of the ground in frustration, spitting red dust back out, "situations," he finally decided, "were and are equally real. Still there will always be that part of them that recognizes you as a voidwalker, an outsider."

The death grey semi seemed to require a response to this so Optimus nodded slowly.

"We could not expect them to change their core programming," he stated softly. "They are what they are and we are what we are."

"Ah!" Sal interjected a bit smugly. "That is where you are wrong, and right. Now Jack, Raf, and Miko they are all at least a decade away from full maturity. Their perception of reality isn't hard yet. Jack looks to you as his father and took three of you as his children. Their acceptance of you as 'us' is much more solid but still they knew a world without you."

The keen analytical processor of the former data clerk began to hum rapidly as he saw the direction this conversation was headed in. Automatically he gathered all that he knew of humans, of their differences from Cybertronians and strung it together with what he was being told. The Prime's vents hitched audibly as the first glimmerings of Salcha's meaning began to crystallize in his processor.

"Jack for instance," Sal was continuing seemingly oblivious to the Autobot's sudden tensing. "He is going to have kids. You can tell by the way he handled those sparklings. From the way he treats his Mom and Miko. Some males are born to be fathers and he's one and you will be its grandfather. Jack's first offspring, from the moment of its conception it will know the sound of your voice, the feel of your life force. You will be a part of its world. Yes it will have books and stories of a time without you but those will be no more real to it than any other story. It will know that you are just like it; a member of the family. Multiply that by the majority of the human race and what is there for the Others to see? They don't deal in facts and numbers like you and humans do, only emotional perception. Now the humans can speed this process up or delay it. When they throw themselves into accepting someone it takes between three and four generations; about forty to sixty years. Their perception of 'us' expands. That is the Wilderness Protocol."

"So the humans planned to keep us a general secret," Optimus summarized thoughtfully, "revealing us gradually and only to a select few who would accept us as family as the Darbys have done, and leaking vague information to the public until the Protocol took effect rendering us invisible to the Others."

"Yes, and it's been a whole cultural thing to make it go faster even before you got here. All those sci-fi shows they watch? That is all part of the longstanding plan to get the population to accept voidwalkers too."

They were silent together for several moments in the dark and lonely desert canyon and finally Optimus spoke.

"Why are you telling me this? Is there something I can do to make this situation easier for the humans?"

"As far as the governments who deal with the Others are concerned, no. They have built their plans around who you are and your ignorance. You just be you and their plans will fall into place in due time. It's Jack you need to be worried about."

The Prime glanced sharply at his companion and the semi nudged him reassuringly reaching out with a tie strap to stroke down the Prime's back plates.

"It's nothing really bad. You just have to be careful the questions you ask him."

"The mental blocks," Optimus said softly, guilt firing through his processor as he remembered all the times he had pressed Jack for information on the strange happenings.

"Yup, and remember how I said that certain bloodlines were given control of weapons by the Others? Well over time those genes, or whatever they are, diffused throughout the population following the female lines. The sons could inherit them but only the daughters breed them true. Now what the scientists call 'natural selection' doesn't really favor them because the women who have them full strength tend not to make as many babies as pure-blooded women, something about stress levels, but still a good part of the population is affected and while it gives them certain powers that worked against the voidwalkers it also suppressed certain natural human talents."

The clouds began to clear letting orange evening light play over two strange companions. Sal's rambling had stalled again as he seemed to lean into the warmth.

"And Jack, through his mother is a descendant of one of these warrior lines?" Optimus prompted the worry in his spark for his charge leaving him with small patience.

Salcha huffed and snorted in derision.

"No, Ma Darby's line is pure human. I could smell that the first time I scented her. Humans like her," Sal hesitated again and leaned into Optimus with a small noise that the Prime had learned meant the trucker was struggling with shame. "Humans like her, they taste the best and you can get all kinds of power from eating a, from, from," the big rig trailed off and Optimus patted his side soothingly.

"And this purity affects Jack how?" the Prime pressed changing the obviously distressing subject.

The grey semi eagerly grasped at the new direction and continued.

"There are very few pure human bloodlines. While none of them have the specific powers the Dragons granted the humans they are not without their own abilities. All humans are born with the capability to manipulate energy fields to some degree. It's how their watchyamacallit, their nervous system, works. There are a lot of humans who have the power in higher levels but are untrained. These can't wear digital watches because they mess with the EM fields without even meaning to and the watches die. Jack, he has the power full strength. He can sense and manipulate energy fields, even conduct energy through his own body, but I'm pretty sure you've already noticed this."

"Indeed. Jack was able to follow the path of the Predacon through the hull of Ultra Magnus's ship. This also is the source of his healing ability I assume?"

"It is why his shows up even when he has no inherent talent for healing," Sal stated a bit dismissively. "Again, all humans also have the healing touch in small amounts. Why do you think solitary confinement is such a harsh punishment for humans? Without the healing effect of their community they go mad and get sick. But no, he is a warrior, not a healer. Agghhh!" Sal shook himself. "Focus! Getting to the point! Jack is also from one of the bloodlines that was supposed to forget the Others to deal with the voidwalkers. The two things go together often but not always, because the Dragon blessed lines were too close to the Others to make working with voidwalkers really safe. His powers lay dormant and would probably have never manifested except as a heightened intuition except for that time we fought the Decepticons together."

"At the gravel pit in Canada," the warrior acknowledged.

"Yeah, and by the way? That was one of the Others who clipped that energon line on you. He was trying to get me, we have this rivalry thing going over our humans, Wolf Clan/Raven Clan thing, but I was too sneaky for him and he got you by mistake. I'm really sorry about that."

The semi bumped him apologetically in the darkening light.

"But focusing! Zech spotted the damage to you and started it healing before he realized what you were. My Zech is a skilled healer, not the most powerful in the clan but up there, and Jack got caught in the healing wave and it pushed his abilities to the surface. Then Zech saw something coming in on the battle. It was the jet Decepticons but he didn't know that so he gave Jack's senses a direct boost so he could ID them for us. That fully woke the kid's powers and now they have to be trained or he could hurt himself. He nearly killed himself taking care of the sparklings before we figured it out. And his isn't just any power. He is what they call a Wavemaster, one of the rare ones who can manipulate any form of energy, or he will be after a few more decades of training. Usually there is only one born per generation of humans and we already have Cousin Sarah. She really should be the one training him, not Zech, but she belongs to one of the bloodlines that is deeply involved with the Others and it would be too dangerous if she was known to be working with the voidwalkers. They would kill her out of jealousy."

"So that puts Jack in the position of knowing about the Others and being constantly exposed to aliens," Optimus stated deep fear suddenly flashing in his optics as he deciphered the semi's ramblings.

"Yes, up till now it hasn't been a real serious problem," the grey semi explained. "Children's minds are malleable and resilient and the mental block really doesn't take effect until maturity, usually somewhere between sixteen and twenty six. Jack has been growing up fast lately though. Zech and I have been careful with his training. My brother knows how to set it up so stray thoughts won't literally give him an aneurism. But you need to be aware that if you or any other mech he respected and wanted to answer were to press him for questions about the Others it could be deadly."

The Prime nodded gravely, fear churning his fuel tanks, as the semi went on.

"Also, there is the simple factor that you exist on such a different plane from the Others. Zech explained it to me like you are a blue wavelength light and they are red and you can't see each other. Humans are kind of in the middle at yellow so they can see both but they have to focus on each individually. And the process of shifting their senses form one to the other is dangerous. That happened to Zech when he was scouting your base after the Cons leveled it. He was looking for you and strained something."

"That is why you could not let him know you are telling me this."

"Yup, the damage is cumulative. His bloodline ages more slowly than the rest of the population, big Clan secret by the way, so he hasn't reached physical maturity yet but now he is old enough that the damage is really starting to add up. He can still hang out with you guys he just has to be careful. I'll tell him I freaked out and you came to calm me down. That's true enough."

"Thank you my friend," Optimus said gravely staring out into the canyon, mulling over what he had been told, a tale full of honest intent but spotty; both where the semi had been simply careless and was most likely deliberately hiding some facets of the situation. "I appreciate the risk you are taking telling me this and you have given me much to think about, but if these Others find it so hard to perceive us how do they now know of our presence?"

"Several reasons; first that beam of light that created the Decepticon's tower was living energy and all the microbes and insects in the atmosphere in its way were torched, those that were on the fringes reacted to the energy and released energy of their own. So the Others saw essentially a reverse image of the beam as it came down from the void. Then when the Cons torched the base several Others were killed."

Salch sighed at the stricken look on Optimus's faceplates.

"And you want the details don't you? Even though it will only make you feel worse?"

"If you please."

"All right, they were just shadow dancers. The humans who lived here before used to go into the caves and build fires for them on special occasions. Then they would all sing and dance together, big party, they weren't good for much else. No human could see them directly. They could only watch their shadows on the walls. I think they liked having the kids there with the television. They would watch with Miko. Nice inoffensive sorts but they did defend their territory from invaders and humans like to build their forts in protected places like that and their presence is one thing that attracted the missile silo builders in the first place. The sun burns them though and Megatron destroyed the rock that protected them in the full light of day."

The Prime bowed his helm and gave a soft mournful exvent.

"See," Sal grumbled. "Now you're getting all droopy. That comes from being too soft! Anyway then there was all those soldiers who died and were injured. The Others feed on humans remember, and injuries leak energy? There is nothing they love more or can spot from further away that a battle zone, and enough know about the current political set up to know that it was weird to have one in the middle of Nevada. So they connected the dots pretty darn fast. Now the humans are going to have to defend their choices, namely keeping you alive and not blasting you out of existence with the dragon power, at the Counsel. They stand a real good chance of maintaining the status quo because so few humans died. As long as they can convince the Others' Elders that this course of action will be good for the human population as a whole then they won't interfere and you should be good."

"And if they cannot convince the Elders of this?" the Prime asked optic ridges drawn together in concern.

"Then you probably will all die in horrible and painful ways after having your minds broken and after watching a lot of humans die trying to protect you."

Optimus's optics dilated and he stiffened at the blunt and casual statement.

"But not to worry! Northclan is handling the explanations so everything will most likely go fine! Cousin Sarah rocks! And she can rip a Wolf in half when she gets mad. Oh! And before I forget." Sal rolled forward and wrapped a tie strap tightly around the Prime's forearm. "The main reason the humans back you up on that me not eating Cybertronians thing? It's because all the Others just assumed that voidwalkers would taste nasty. If word gets out about how, how, delicious and yummy you really are," the sound of drool dripping down to hiss and burn the sand beneath them began to be noticeable, "it would be really hard to keep the rouge hunters off of you! But don't worry! I haven't told anyone how delicious you are and I won't!"

"I appreciate your discretion," Optimus said seriously despite the twinkle in his optics at the earnestness of the macabre pledge.

Seeming quite proud of himself Sal released his arm and rolled back before continuing.

"In fact some mindless parasites were already draining you before the kids showed up. Just little things but a lot of them on you at once can be harmful and you guys had no natural defenses. But hanging out with the humans fixed that."

"How did their presence deter these things if they also feed on humans?" Optimus asked, his plating twitching a bit unconsciously at the thought of energon sucking parasites.

"Huh, I'm not sure," Sal admitted stroking the warm red mesh almost a bit possessively, "maybe because in order to avoid those things the humans developed rituals and stuff; like washing their hands but for energy suckers instead of germs. You Bots mimic so good that you picked up on a lot of them without even knowing it and it helped. Like soaking in the sun, before Arcee started doing it for Jack's sake how often did she greet the morning and evening light? I know that burns some out. Also Jack has been secretly killing off the worst of the parasites and purifying the ones in the energon you drink. He's good at killing things."

"Ratchet did note that our gross energon processing efficiency has increased dramatically since the children came into our lives. The question as to why has been bothering him for some time," Optimus said softly filling away the fact that his son had been secretly protecting Team Prime this way for later consideration.

The Prime frowned and glanced at Salcha.

"You are one of these Others?"

"Sorta, kinda, not really."

The Cybertronian tilted his helm to the side and arched an eyebrow.

"You have said it will be lethal for a human to reveal the presence of the Others to a voidwalker but Jack and Zech have both explained you to me and neither seems to have suffered for it."

"Oh yeah, that. So far everything that I am and that I can do can be explained by human science. Even if I was one of the Others remember I told you how humans can rearrange their reality? That's the real reason I let those scientists poke at me. It sort of anchors me solidly in the four dimensions that the humans are the protectors of. I am now a freak of nature, not a beast of myth. That and the red oil added to the fact that the Franklins adopted me as a full family member makes me count as a human in the Erie Accords."

*Greydawn, Franklin the Eighth!*

"And there is Zech calling me. Gotta roll," Sal blurted out seeming to slump with relief that the conversation was over.

The semi turned to go and Optimus held up a hand.

"One last question; you said that the Predacons sent to Earth died because they were slain by humans but that the humans befriended some. What became of them?"

The Franklin paused and hummed thoughtfully.

"You know I really don't know. They just disappear into history. The last real record of one I know of was off on some little island up north across the Atlantic; big red thing, got in a fight over the territory with a big white one and won. Ever since it's defended the southern tip of the island from invaders and whatnot but hasn't been seen in ages. No idea what finally happened to it but the people there have a legend that he will return to defend them when the need is great. Might be alive and snoozing away in a cave for all I know. Doubt you have to worry about it though."

"I see. Thank you again," Optimus lowered his hand letting the trucker go on his way.

"Welcome," Sal said but he lingered at the mouth of the canyon as if waiting for the Autobot.

Optimus smiled and transformed coming alongside the semi. The big rig gave a contented growl and rubbed against the war machine happily. The two drove back to the base in companionable silence and were greeted by a swarm of humans and mechs interrupted from an impromptu pizza party and curious about their newly revealed friend. Miko demanded to see what he was under the hood, and promptly turned a bit green when he cracked the engine compartment to show her. Raf stared in fascination and such scientific awe it made the being's black hide prickle a bit nervously. As the girl was no longer paying attention to her food Sal took this as permission to snatch the slice of three meat jalapeño out of her hand as she had clearly lost her appetite. The ruckus that ensued lasted until Zech collected his brother and they headed out for their next run.


End file.
